Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead
by Motsie of Atlantis
Summary: Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?
1. Chapter 1

**Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS:LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-5. I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

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 **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead**

 **Chapter 1**

 **. . . . .**

 **South Bureau Police Building, Los Angeles ||** **March 2010**

Marty Deeks was called into the office of LAPD Lieutenant Roger Bates. The Lieutenant sat him down and just glared at him. Deeks knew that what was going to transpire was not something he was going to want to hear.

Bates slammed his hand flat on the top of his desk, making an explosive noise that made Deeks jump in his chair. "Damn it, Deeks. This is the third handler that has given up on you. Why the hell can't you work with them?"

Deeks quickly recovered his composure and looked back at the Lieutenant with an angry, piercing look "Shit. They just don't care about me. This yo-yo told me that when he clocks out here, he's off the job. Don't bother to call him after 10:00 PM. How's an undercover cop supposed to work a 9 to 5 job?"

"I don't know what the heck to do with you anymore, Deeks. You've run me out of handlers for you. There's nobody I can put you with."

"You can't put me back into the squad room. God, nobody wants to partner with me. I'm treated like shit there."

"One last possibility. I've got a friend, Robert Murray, in another jurisdiction. He needs to move one of his people. I'll have her down here by the end of the week. Let's see if you can work with her."

"Her? Come on, a female handler? Geeze, Bates, what are you trying to do to me?"

"More than just a handler, Deeks. When you are not undercover, she will be your partner too."

"Partner? Hell, you know I work alone. I don't do partners. Besides, after one day, nobody ever wants to partner with me again."

"You brought it on yourself, Deeks. You ran everybody else off. She will be new and know nothing about you at all. You will work with her. This is your absolute last chance."

"Shit."

 **Chicago || 2006**

Jess Traynor was born Karen Hendricks. She grew up in Chicago and lived most of her life predominately on the north side of the city. Karen got her associates degree in Criminal Justice/Safety Studies at Wilbur Wright College, one of the City Colleges of Chicago and then received her undergraduate degree in Criminology, Law, and Justice at the University of Illinois at Chicago. She applied for and took the Chicago Police Exam, became a Probationary Police Officer while she attended the Training Academy and graduated. For five years, she was a good Chicago cop and was promoted to the rank of detective. She was assigned to the Youth Drug Enforcement Squad and did her job well. Then one night she arrested Dominic Rovero, a member of the Carducci crime family for selling heroin to a bunch of young adults.

He was put into a holding cell, waiting for his lawyer to come and bail him out. Before he could be brought up for arraignment, Tony Hernandez, 'the Showman Snowman', a minor street dealer was dropped into the cell with him. He recognized Dominic as the guy who sold him a bad lot of china white heroin a couple of months before. There was a scuffle and Dominic was found on the floor, shanked in the belly with a homemade knife. He bled out before anyone found him and provided him with medical attention.

Somehow a member of the Carducci family found out that Karen was the arresting officer. Two nights later, while she was out patrolling the streets, her home was broken into. Her father, her mother, and her younger brother were all brutally murdered. Her 68-year-old grandmother was left alive, just barely They beat her almost senseless and left her with a message. 'For every one of ours you take, we take three of yours.' To make sure that the message was understood, it was also painted on the wall in the victims' blood.

Of course, there were no witnesses. No one was ever charged with the three murders. Every single one of the Carducci family had an airtight alibi. They all were at a family dinner to honor their patriarch, Emilio Carducci. That evening he announced that his eldest son, Joseph, would be the one in charge of the family business. Emilio just wanted to spend his time traveling the world with his wife.

Karen suffered a nervous breakdown. Her superior, Captain Murray, put her on medical leave. After intense therapy, when she came back, he advised her to transfer to a different division. In fact, he thought it would be best if she got out of police work in any major city. The Carducci crime family had too many connections throughout the country for her to be completely free of them.

He got her an appointment to FLETC where she graduated. For three years, she was with the FBI. Mindful of her background with the Carducci family in Chicago, the Bureau had her doing mostly back up investigative work, hesitating to send her undercover, or use her as part of the primary teams involving drug busts, human trafficking, or anything else that the major cartels specialized in.

Karen was never happy with this arrangement. She felt like she was always being baby-sat. She knew that any further involvement with the Carducci family would mean that her grandmother would be killed, and she was the only family that she had left. But still, it upset her that it seemed like a federal agency was taking orders from a crime family.

Captain Murray, knowing how unhappy she was there at the Bureau, tried to find a way to help her. First he found a very sympathetic judge. They had pulled in a floater in the Chicago River. The female victim came close to Karen's description, but the body had started to decompose already so very few details could be determined. An autopsy was performed, and the judge declared that the deceased woman was indeed Karen Hendricks. This unknown woman's body was buried under Karen's name. Karen Hendricks ceased to exist. The original owner of the name had been provided with a brand new identity. Jess Traynor was born that day.

But she still looked too close to the woman the Carduccis would remember. So she requested a transfer, as far from Chicago as possible. Out to LA

 **South Bureau Police Building, Los Angeles ||** **March, 2010**

At the end of the week Bates called Deeks into his office again. There was a woman waiting there with him.

"Marty Deeks, meet your new handler and partner, Jess Traynor"

Jess got up and turned around. Deeks was immediately struck by the beauty of the young woman. Although she was wearing flats, she was only about six inches shorter than he was. Her long hair was a deep, dark brown. He looked her in the eye, and saw they were colored black. Her warm, olive skin tones gave hm absolutely no idea what her racial heritage could be. If anything, he guessed it might be somewhere in the Mediterranean.

His first thought was to run, don't walk, to the nearest exit. Don't turn around to look back. Just keep running until he was as far away as he could possibly get.

Instead, he shook her hand. It was nothing like he ever felt before. They made an immediately connection.

"Okay, the two of you get together somewhere and work it out between you how this is gonna work. I don't want to hear Deeks complaining."

She looked at Marty and asked him, "When and where do you wanna meet?"

"Not here, how about on the beach?"

"Okay with me."

"Do you surf?"

"No. I never had the chance to learn."

"Do you wanna learn?'

She gave him an upraised eye for an answer.

"Do you have a swimsuit?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"I mean a sturdy one-piece suit, not a bikini that will fall off of you when someone looks at you sideways."

"Yeah, sooo?"

"Wear it tomorrow morning. If you want, wear a cover-up. Bring a go bag with a change of clothes along with you. Give me your address and I will pick you up at 6:00 AM."

Jess looked at Lt. Bates, who just shrugged his shoulders. She wrote her address on a post-it note and handed it to him.

Deeks just told the Lt. that they would be in tomorrow after 1:00 PM, ready for work, then left.

 **Santa Monica Beach || March, 2010**

Deeks was ten minutes early picking her up. She saw him walking up to the door of her apartment building and went down to meet him.

"You ready?" Deeks asked

Jess pulled the sundress over her head and pirouetted before him. "Does this meet your approval?" she asked, showing him the white swimsuit from all angles.

 _Damn,_ Deeks thought. _She is one fine looking woman._

"It's not me that has to approve. It's Amelio."

"And just who is Amelio"

"You'll see."

Ten minutes later Deeks pulled his car up in front of Amelio's Surf Shop. It looked like it was closed but he went and pounded on the front door anyway.

"Amelio, my man. Thank you for opening up so early just for me."

"Anything for you, Marty."

"Actually, Amelio, it's not for me. It's for my new friend, Jess, who wants to learn how to surf."

Amelio looked at her and asked, "You sure you want to let this psychopathic beach bum teach you to surf. You look smarter than that." He was laughing as he said it, so Jess knew that these two men were good friends.

"Okay, take off your dress." he said to Jess, then adding to Marty, "I hope you told her to wear something decent under it."

"Ohhhhh, yeah," Deeks said.

Amelio had her turn around, looking at her from top to bottom. He turned and went into the back of his shop, telling them on the way, "I think I have just what you need."

Five minutes later he was back with a package in his hand. "Jess, come closer and give your dress to Marty. Now, just stand there." He shook out the package and held up a white, long sleeved wet suit up to her body. "Yes, I think this will work just fine." He opened the zippers and explained how she should put it on, then led her to a small dressing area to try it.

She came out shortly wearing the garment. If she looked good in just her swimsuit, she looked fabulous in her wet suit.

Amelio turned to Deeks and asked, "So, you wanna pick out a board for her or should I?'

"I'll do it. You gotta remember that she's with me."

"Damn, you pretty boys get all the hot girls. Just remember," he said to Jess with an exaggerated wink of his eye, "if pretty boy doesn't work out, I'll be here waiting."

Deeks laughed and said to him, "Down, boy. How much I owe you for all this?"

"We'll settle up when you find out if you are keeping her or throwing her back. Now get out on the water. The waves are gonna be perfect for beginners today, and I mean you, Marty, not her."

Deeks picked out a board for her and strapped it on the top of his car next to his own. They drove a little further down the beach and parked the car. Walking out onto the beach, Deeks spread out a blanket, and they left most of their stuff there. They walked down to the waterline and out into the ocean.

"What do we do first," Jess asked.

"First we're going to try a little trust exercise. Let's walk out till we're waist deep. You hop up on your board. Stretch your arms out as far as you can and grab the edges of the board with your fingers. Now curl your toes underneath the edges of the board. A wetsuit is made to be worn wet. So I'm gonna flip you and then flip you back. I'm gonna do the same thing when we're out in the deeper water. I'll let you do it to me here, but until you're more comfortable with your board, I'll do it for myself out in the deeper water, okay?"

He flipped Jess, so the bottom of her board was up on top. He flipped her again and she came back up to the surface.

"Now, you trusted me on that, right?"

"Yeah."

"Jess, as my partner, you can always trust me to have your back."

"Good to know."

"Now, you wanna do it to me?"

"Sure," she said eagerly, with a twinkle in her smile.

She repeated his actions.

"Okay. We're both wet, Let's paddle out."

"Are we gonna be doing any surfing?" Jess was wondering if he was going to teach her, or if he just had some ulterior motives for getting her to the beach.

"I... kinda doubt it. I think we're just gonna stick on our boards, and just get to know one another, out there where it's just us, and the water, and the sun".

"What do you mean, sun?, she asked looking at the sky. It was still twilight, and a thin haze seemed to be rolling in off of the ocean.

"Wait for it." he said as they continued to paddle out a ways.

"Okay, now turn around." he said, swiveling on his board and helping her turn hers around.

The sun was just beginning to peek over the mountains behind the city.

"God, that's beautiful." she sat there entranced at the beauty of the scene that was playing out before her.

"Thought you'd like it. That's one of the main reasons why I love the water so much. You can come out here, and the beauty of a sunrise or the power of the waves can easily strip away all the problems and stress that had been building up within you,"

They sat there just watching it for a little bit. Then Deeks turned to her and said, "Okay, what is there about Jess Traynor that I need to know?"

"Well, I'm 38 years old. I was born in Haiti, father was an American, mother was a Haitian. We lived there for three years, then we moved to Chicago.

She grew silent for a few moments, until Deeks looked at her and said, "There's got to be more."

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	2. Chapter 2

**=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 ** **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?****

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS:LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-5. I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

 ** **A/N: I want to thank Raderle for allowing me to use a modified version of why Deeks switched from being a lawyer to being a cop in the story 'Aftermath to Human Traffic.'****

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 **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead**

 **Chapter 2**

 **Santa Monica Beach || March, 2010**

Deeks turned to Jess and said, "Okay, what is there about Jess Traynor that I need to know?"

"Well, I'm 38 years old. I was born in Haiti, my father was American, my mother was Haitian. We lived there for three years, then we moved to Chicago.

She grew silent for a few moments until Deeks looked at her and said, "There's got to be more."

"Growing up, I guess I just didn't know where I fit in. My dad was black, but the blacks just looked on me as being Hispanic. My mom was French-Creole, but they all looked upon me as being black. Neither group wanted to have anything to do with me. So, I threw myself into my schooling, getting as good of grades as I possibly could. And that made people hate me even more."

"Kids can be so cruel at times, I know that from experience."

"My little brother was an athlete, but I always seemed to have two left feet while playing games, so nobody ever picked me or wanted me. I was just lucky that my parents supported me in everything I did."

"Do you have any other family here"

Jess got real quiet as she told him, "Almost all my family is gone. One aunt and uncle moved back from Chicago to Haiti when I was twelve, but I lost contact with them. I don't know if there is anyone left back in Haiti. Up here it's just my grandmother and me now."

"Did something happen to your parents? And what about your little brother?"

"All three of them were brutally murdered years ago, to pay me back for one of the Carducci crime family being killed in jail."

"Oh God, Jess. I'm so sorry."

"That's why I moved out here. Captain Murray, my boss in Chicago, thought that they might come after me too. I suffered a nervous breakdown. When I got better I was sent to FLETC and worked with the FBI for three years. But they got the word too that I was a marked woman. They had me doing babysitting jobs for them, and I really missed working out in the field. I asked for a transfer, and here I am. Okay, you now know about me. What about you."

 _God,_ Marty thought to himself, _she sounds almost as damaged as I am. If I tell her everything about me, we are either gonna be one hell of a team, or one of us will end up shooting the other in the first month._ For this reason, Marty felt that he could trust Jess and could tell her his whole story, not just the sanitized version that everyone else had come to know.

"My Dad, Gordon John Brandel, became a drunk after he lost his job, a mean drunk. I was a small boy and was really afraid of him. He kept telling me how worthless I was all the time. Then one night, when I was eleven years old, he raped and killed my older sister Fern, and then went after my Mom. I shot the asshole and then ran from the house. I don't know what happened to my Mom. I was picked up and put into the system. I bounced around a little bit until I landed in the home of Michael and Janet Deeks. They adopted me and shared the remainder of their lives with me."

"Geez, Marty, can I call you Marty? I hate calling people by their last names. That's a hell of a childhood to live through. Is that what made you want to be a cop?"

"First of all, let me flip you so you don't dry out." Deeks proceeded to roll her surfboard and then bring her back to the surface. He then did the same with his own board.

"You know, it sounds kinda good when you call me Marty, not like the other cops that call me that and treat me like a kid. And actually, I studied law in college. I passed the bar and am licensed to practice law in three states."

"But...you're a cop, not a lawyer, aren't you?"

"That's what they tell me, although some days I really wonder."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nobody treats me like a cop. I work harder than any of them, and I think they hate me for it. I have better arrest records than most of them, and they say I'm just lucky. Almost every division has used me in undercover work, and I excelled at that. But still, people at the station treat me like a leper. That's why I would sooner go 'lone wolf' than work with a partner."

"So, if you were a lawyer, how did you end up being a cop?" Jess wanted to know.

"I was working in the public defender's office and pulled a case where Roberta Sanchez wanted sole custody of her 7-year-old daughter, Carmen. Carlos, her abusive husband, was an enforcer for Los Tipos Duros, a small Mexican gang operating out of Mexico here in Los Angeles. I won the case and got an order of protection for the woman. Within a week, Roberta was found, beaten to an unrecognizable pulp. She was laying in a lake of dried body fluids behind a dumpster near her house. The autopsy showed that almost every bone in her body was broken. We could only confirm her identity when we found her copy of the order of protection in the back pocket of her jeans. Both Carlos and Carmen were nowhere to be found. The last thing anyone heard about them was that they fled across the Mexican border."

"But Marty, that wasn't your fault. You couldn't guard her and her family day and night."

"But don't you see? I saw the results of the court case as a victory because I got what I thought was needed. It really was nothing but a defeat. I just wasn't good enough. It was just like my Dad was telling me all my life."

"Your Dad still is in contact with you?" Jess asked surprisedly.

"He was sent to prison for what he did. He worked out an early release for turning state's evidence against others the government wanted. He was released and restricted to living in Indiana, and that's where he died." Deeks' voice got real low as he added, "But he still is up here," pointing to his head, "and he still tries to get me to be the child he wanted."

"I don't understand."

"If you are gonna be my handler, you need to know about Max Gentry, before you meet him for the first time and he scares the hell out of you."

"Are we going to pick him up when we head back?" Jess wondered.

"No." He's also up here." Again Deeks pointed to his head. "He is the alias that I always have to struggle to keep under control. He is one of the darkest people you will ever encounter, anywhere on earth. The man cares about no one. No rules ever apply to him, He is a complete sociopath. He is my father's child."

Jess just looked at him, wide-eyed. "But he is an alias. You can choose whether or not to take him on...can't you?" she asked, a little bit worried.

Deeks just started shaking his head, "I try to keep him under restraint. But there are times when he just takes over. I'm beginning to wonder if he is the real me, and Deeks is just the alias. That is the demon that I am fighting constantly."

Jess reached her hand out to touch his. "Marty, maybe your problem is that you have been trying to do it all by yourself. If you show me how to help you, we can fight that demon together."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"You remember what you told me right before you rolled me the first time close to shore, how, as your partner, I could always trust you to have my back?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Well, being a partner goes two ways. If I can trust you enough to have my back, don't you think you should be able to do the same with me?"

"Well..."

"Marty...why won't you answer me?"

"You don't know how hard it is to give up the control when you have been doing it all alone for so long."

"But, Marty, a problem shared is a problem halved. You no longer have to do it all alone. I am your partner, in for the good...and the bad."

"Well, then I guess that there is something else that you need to know about me, and I don't know if it is good, or bad. Somehow I have been designated as liaison between the LAPD and a group of feds, NCIS."

"NCIS?"

"Naval Criminal Investigative Services" he explained. "A bunch of US Navy cops that investigate crimes that involve military personnel or national security."

Jess looked at him, wondering what this was all about. "You don't have any connection to the Navy, do you?"

"Nope." was his answer.

"Then how did you get chosen as a liaison for them?"

"The nearest thing that I can think of is an evil little woman named Henrietta Lange, who is the Operations Manager of the unit." As he said this, he looked around, and Jess started wondering if he expected the woman to appear somewhere within earshot.

"Evil?" Jess asked.

"Okay, she's not exactly evil. She's been in the spy game forever and she somehow knows everything. I once overheard one of the members of the night staff describe her as 'a riddle wrapped up in a mystery inside an enigma clutching a hand grenade'."

"She sounds dangerous."

"Oh, you have no idea. If only half the stories I heard about her are true, she is one woman you would never, ever, want to cross."

"So, what does she have you do as the Los Angeles Police Department liaison, convey information from one group to another?"

"No. She has a computer guru who can do that a whole lot quicker than I can. He can, and has, hacked into the LAPD files to get any information he wants or needs. But don't ever tell Bates that. I would deny it in a heart-beat. I fear Hetty that much."

"So what is it that you actually do there?"

"Frankly, I wish I knew. She has has me placed on what people claim is her number one team. The leader of the team is a man who is about as mysterious as she is. He has no first name, just a letter, G. His partner is a former US Navy SEAL, huge and strong. The third member of the team is a kick-ass brunette, proficient with any type of weapon, or with no weapons at all. When she has me working with this group, I am teamed up with her."

"So, I have a rival for your teammate affections," Jess said with a smile.

"No. The members of that team have made it abundantly clear to me that I am not really one of them. They call me 'the replacement' and 'the temp'. I don't have the federal agent training that they all have, and I know they feel I am not qualified to be considered their equal. Since you have gone through FLETC, you probably are more qualified than I am for the position."

"I don't think that I would want it. Have you tried to refuse the position?"

"Yeah. Right after the first time I met Hetty. But Bates made it abundantly clear to me that wasn't gonna happen. The little old lady asked for me by name, and he would do his best to see it happen. If I didn't take the position, I didn't have a job with the LAPD."

"So how do the logistics of the job work? I mean, I would sure like to know if all of a sudden you no longer had my back so that you can cover your other partner's ass." Jess shook her head. "I don't believe it. I haven't even met this other woman, and already I'm jealous."

"There is nothing for you to be jealous of. They are not going to pull me off an LAPD case. When I'm working a case with the police, I am unavailable to them. Of course, the opposite is true too. When I'm working a case with them, I am unavailable to Bates and the department."

"And to me?" she asked.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I just want to know who is gonna be watching my back when you are off playing Navy cop?"

"I guess that is going to be something that we will need to work out with Bates. I never thought about that. I don't know if there are any other detectives over at South Bureau that I would trust you with. Maybe I should talk to Hetty and see if she would want you to replace me."

"You know that is not gonna work, Marty. Especially if she asked for you by name."

"Well, let's head in. You can change and keep your stuff over at my place. We'll grab some lunch and head into the office to talk to Bates. You did bring a change of clothes in a go bag, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did. Is that a common practice out here in California?"

"What? Grabbing lunch or having a change of clothes with you? I'm pretty sure that people grab lunch all over the world, not just here in California," Deeks said with a smile. "As far as a change of clothes? In our business you wouldn't believe how many different things can happen every day that can ruin your clothes."

The two of them paddled in toward the shore. Jess more intrigued about this man with whom she was going to be partnered. Deeks just wondering what he was gonna say to Bates.

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	3. Chapter 3

**=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 ** **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?****

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS:LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-5. I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

 **=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead**

 **Chapter 3  
**

 ** **South Bureau Police Building, Los Angeles || 1:00 PM****

Bates couldn't believe it. Something must have clicked between Deeks and Traynor that morning. The two of them came into his office, sharing a laugh before both of them went at each other. But they did not go for the throat, as Bates had expected. Instead, it was a light, good-natured, exchange of teasing remarks, that almost bordered on the playful.

"I see that Traynor has managed to endure your presence for at least half a day, Deeks. Do I dare hope that she will be able to make it all the way through the day without demanding a different partner?"

"I have no intentions of asking for a different partner," Jess told him, looking at Deeks.

"And what about you, Deeks? Are you going to be able to work with her?" he asked.

"That depends on your answers to the questions that I have, in fact, a lot depends on how you answer me," Deeks said, running his hand through his hair and wearing a very intense expression on his face. It was so different from the joking smile that he normally wore, that Bates knew he was getting into something very serious.

"And those questions are?" he asked, eager to know what could knock the smile off of Deeks' face.

The Detective hesitated almost a full minute, then stared directly at the Lieutenant and started talking. "I know you had no choice in appointing me the liaison with NCIS. Hell, I've met Henrietta Lange, and I am just as scared of her, if not more than you are. I promised Detective Traynor that as her partner, I would always have her back. If I am pulled by NCIS for a case, I need to know how I can watch her back when I'm not there. I don't trust her to be partnered with anyone else here in the squad room, especially after seeing how they all treat me. What can we do to make sure that she is safe, even when I'm not here physically to have her back?"

Bates was completely taken by surprise at his question. Most of the men in the squad room would have tried to work something out where they would get more time off, or somehow work out a situation that would be beneficial to them. He would have expected something like that from Deeks. The Detective was always a lone wolf, doing things his way with no regard to other people. Sometimes he even bent the rules and regulations, almost to the breaking point, to get the job done. But here he was, trying to negotiate more favorable conditions for his partner, whom he just met. He would never figure out this complicated man.

"Well, Deeks, if you don't go on any long, undercover assignments for the little tyrant, maybe I could make sure that Traynor is chained to a desk for administrative work while you are gone. It might help get rid of all the paperwork that accumulates around here and would give you one less thing to worry about on your assignment. That should help you get back to us quicker. Of course, Traynor would have to agree to this too."

Deeks looked at her with his puppy dog eyes that voiced the message as effectively as if he would have shouted it out. "Say yes. Please... Say yes."

"I think I can agree to that right now, Lieutenant." She said, as relief flashed over her partner's face.

"What other question do you have, Deeks?" the officer asked.

"Like I said, I fear the wrath of Hetty. I do not want to be on her angry side, ever. And I don't know if there is any sane person who would disagree with me. I don't want to get you into trouble, but is there any way possible that I don't have to liaise with her and her team? None of them wants me there. They have made that abundantly clear. I dread the thought of working with them when none of them trust me, and I certainly can't trust any of them."

"You know, Deeks, she asked for you specifically. I asked her if anyone else would work in this position. Her answer was a flat 'No!'. So I guess that you are stuck with it."

"Then can I ask that you keep assigning cases to Detective Traynor and me, so there will always be something for us to work on here? If you do that, when she asks for me to take on something for NCIS, you can honestly say that I am unavailable because I am working on something for the LAPD. It may only work a few times, but it would help me make sure that I have Detective Traynor's back."

"I think something like that could be arranged. You're right. It would keep that dangerous little woman off both of our backs if we could do it." Bates agreed. "Anything else?"

"Not at the moment," Deeks said.

Jess just shook her head no.

"Okay, here's your first case. Deeks, take her to your old desk. You two will be in residence there. Oh, and Traynor," he said to her, as she looked up at him with a query in her eyes, "good luck with our problem child."

The two of them laughed as they got up to leave Bates' office. They went to a desk out in the squad room and started to work.

 **. . . . .**

 ** **South Bureau Police Building, Los Angeles**** **|| May 2010**

Bates opened up his office door and saw the detectives he wanted to speak with at their desk, working on their reports and engaging in light conversation.

"Deeks, Traynor, get in here." he yelled at the two.

Both of them immediately raised their heads and looked at him. They slowly made their way to Bates' office, wondering why their boss had called them in.

As soon as the Lieutenant had closed the door behind them, they began to get worried.

Deeks looked at his boss and started to say, "If it's about those reports that I still have to finish for that last..."

"It's not about the reports, Deeks. Someone has complained about how you and Traynor are doing your jobs."

"If it's someone we have put in jail, I don't think they have any reason to complain," the young man snarled back.

"It's not any of them. It's someone here in the department. They claim that you have been getting involved in their cases without checking in with them first." the Lieutenant continued.

"Let me guess, Scarli?" Deeks wondered.

"Why, did he talk to you?"

"I just know that he has got it in for Traynor, and I just wonder if it is the love he has for me rubbing off on her." Deeks said sarcastically.

"What do you mean by that?" the Lieutenant queried.

"I overheard him talking to another detective one day. He said he didn't like Traynor. Said it seems like any Chicago beat cop can come out here to Los Angeles and claim to be a detective. Just because she claims to be a detective, doesn't make her one. I have no clue why he thinks that way about her."

At his words Jess looked at him with a dumbstruck, confused look on her face.

Deeks saw the look of pain in her eyes, shook his head once, and signaled with one finger that he would talk to her about it later.

Bates tried to take control of the situation again. "Well, you know everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and mine is the only one that counts."

Deeks continued to rant against the Senior Detective. "All I know is that Scarli is an ass. He is a lazy detective. He lets his partner do all the work to get the bust, then as senior detective, he claims all the credit."

"I kinda got that opinion of him too." Bates agreed. "Anyway, he claimed that the last collar you two made and one before that were cases that he was working. He claimed that he was using them to set up the bigger fish that were running the operations. By not checking with him and busting the marks, he claimed that you blew the whole operation."

"We found nothing to link him with those two people we busted," Traynor explained.

"But you should have checked with him," Bates insisted.

"Right," Deeks said with a sarcastic tone to his voice. "He came to us after that first incident and complained to us. So we checked with him before we tried to make our next bust, twice. After getting his go-ahead, we found the first person, but only after he ended up in the morgue. The second person, we still have not been able to find him. I'm not saying anything about this, but you have to admit that the circumstances are a little strange."

"Hmmmm." Bates was evaluating what Deeks just told him. "You know, that's all circumstantial."

"Yeah," Deeks responded, "but I also know that one of the best ways to defend yourself is to accuse everyone else of doing something wrong."

"Anyway, I've got a case for you, where you won't bother any of Scarli's cases. Deeks, You're gonna have to go undercover, and Traynor, you are gonna be his handler."

"You have any idea how long this one is gonna last?" Deeks asked.

"It's gonna be a deep cover, and it will last until you have the people in custody."

Deeks turned to Jess and told her, "Get ready for a long one."

Then he smiled at Lt. Bates and told him, "Thanks, boss. The longer it lasts, the longer we both escape the wrath of Hetty Lange."

"That was what you wanted, wasn't it, Deeks?"

Deeks just smiled.

Bates handed Deeks a file folder. He opened it up so he and Jess could both read the pages it contained. In the meantime, he started offering them a condensed version of the mission.

"The target is Emilio Ortega. US citizen born in San Diego, 1972. Long juvie record. Helped his father smuggle usual things over the US border. Moved to LA when his father was killed. Joined a group specializing in extortion, and three years later, was their leader. Best guess is that he killed off anyone opposing him."

"So, who was he extorting, that he came up on our radar?" Deeks asked without raising his eyes from the file he was reading.

"Word we got is that is that is not why he is being sought out right now. It's his ability to move back and forth across the border. We got a heads-up from San Diego that someone with big bucks is looking for a person with experience like that."

"Does this 'someone' have a name?" Deeks asked.

"We're not sure. There are two or three possibilities. That is where you come in, Deeks. You find out who is bankrolling this operation, and what they want to run across the border. If it's weapons, we might have to turn it over to NCIS anyway. You'll still be in on the ground floor on this one, no matter what."

"So, who is Detective Deeks supposed to be and how is he gonna hook up with Ortega?" Traynor wanted to know.

""He's going in as Dale John Sully, a crooked lawyer that got caught making shady land deals. His law license was pulled because he sold a few acres of fairly worthless land to some little old ladies. He is going to use his knowledge of land dealing to set up some safe houses on both sides of the border. Since he's a lawyer, this should be a piece of cake for Deeks."

"And what is my part in this whole operation?" Traynor asked.

"Anything that he needs, help, information, whatever, you are the one that will get it to him. He is to check in with you at least every other day. If he misses one check-in, you start to worry. If he misses a second one, you are on the phone to me immediately. Do you understand that? I don't want Deeks to be doing any more 'lone wolf' operations."

He then turned to look at Deeks and asked, "Do I make myself perfectly clear, Detective?"

Deeks again didn't bother looking up from the sheets he was reading, "Huh? Oh, yeah, sure."

Bates just shook his head as he mumbled under his breath, "Damn kid."

 **. . . . .**

 ** **The Boat Shed || May 2010****

As Deeks and Jess drove up to the Boat Shed, he noticed that Sam's Challenger was already there. The two of them walked in, and Deeks observed that not only were all three agents there, but Eric was also attending the meeting electronically.

"I'm glad all of you are here, because I have some bad news for you." the Detective stated.

"LAPD has finally come to their senses and replaced you as liaison with this lovely lady?" Callen asked.

"You're no longer a temp with us, but have been moved to some other alphabet agency?" Sam said with a chuckle.

"LAPD found something else that you're best at, crossing guard maybe?" Kensi snickered.

Deeks looked at Jess and she could see the brief look of pain that came over his face. But he hid it again behind his smile. She could tell that it was hard for him to keep it going, It showed in his grin, but never made it up to his eyes.

"No. As far as I know I'm still your liaison. It's just that I won't be liaising for a while. LAPD is having me go undercover to help take down Emilio Ortega, a crime lord working here and in Mexico. My partner here is Detective Jess Traynor. She is going to be my handler while I am undercover. If you need anything from me, you're going to have to go through her."

Jess handed out her card to the three of them. She got the feeling that Kensi didn't want to take the card from her.

"So, Deeks," Kensi asked him, "how long do you think that you are going to be working undercover?"

"Why Kensi, I thought you knew," he answered. "Until the job is done or I'm no longer around to do it. But it looks like it is going to take a while."

To Jess, it looked like Kensi was taken aback at his answer. She couldn't tell if the agent was disappointed that it might be a long-term operation, or the fact that Deeks mentioned that he might not be coming home. Jess hated the thought of that outcome, too, and she swore to herself that she would do everything she could to keep Marty alive and safe.

"You guys, and you too, Kensi, enjoy my absence. I will be back, if for no other reason than to haunt you." Deeks said as he ushered Jess out the door.

Sam just sat there, shaking his head. Certainly everyone else could see that this clown had no place working with their team.

Callen wondered if he was extremely brave, or just plain stupid, for going undercover without any backup. He had done it for a while, and he knew just how difficult it was.

Kensi didn't know what she was feeling. She decided to wait until she was at home to really think about what was said here.

Eric just cut the connection with the Boat Shed. He nearly jumped out of his seat when he heard Hetty call his name behind him.

"Mr. Beale," Hetty exclaimed. "You will go through the LAPD's files, and find out what alias Mr. Deeks is using on this undercover operation. You will then backstop that alias until it is so real that no one, I repeat, no one, could ever tell who it really is. You will also get me as much information as you can on Detective Jess Traynor. This is between you and me, Mr. Beale. No on else on the team will know of this. Am I clear?"

"Y...ye...yes, Hetty," Eric stuttered.

Henrietta Lange left Eric to do his work in Ops. As soon as the doors whooshed closed behind her, she headed down to her office. She was so upset she wished there was something on the floor in her way that she could try to kick it a country mile. Of course the place was spotless, like she demanded, and there was nothing to kick.

Sitting down at her desk, she just shook her head and blurted out one word, "Bugger!"

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	4. Chapter 4

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 **Don't Speak Ill of the Dead**

 **Chapter 4**

 **South Bureau Police Building, Los Angeles || May, 2010**

Two weeks into the undercover assignment Detective Traynor came to Lieutenant Bates and demanded more of a role in the mission. Deeks had made a little progress with Emilio Ortega, finding out that the product that he wanted to ship across the border was not drugs or weapons, it was girls and young women. Ortega was planning to become the wholesale distributor of this commodity throughout the country, funneling them in through northern Mexico and southern California.

Once they were in the Lieutenant's office, Jess showed him a picture of two young girls, walking arm in arm through a backyard flower garden, smiles on their faces that just wouldn't quit.

"That was taken in 1987. That's me on the left, eleven years old, with my cousin Christina, who was thirteen. One night we were coming home from watching Spaceballs at the local theater. While we were walking past a park, just four blocks from my home, a van stopped just a little bit ahead of us. As we walked past it, two guys jumped out and tried to abduct us. Maybe they wanted Christina more, maybe I struggled more, but I got away and Christina was pulled into the van. I ran all the way home and by the time the police came, the van was long gone. There was an extensive search through the neighborhood, throughout the city. No trace of her could be found. Finally, it seemed as if everyone forgot about her, except for me. I could never forget her. Her body finally was found, 18 months later, just outside Reynosa, in Mexico, tossed aside by sex traffickers that no longer wanted or needed her."

"You know, if you make it personal, I am gonna have to pull you off this case?" Bates asked her. He looked at her and knew for her it was personal. It was so personal, that it would make no difference for her if she was officially on or off the case.

"You know I'm gonna do this, no matter what you tell me," Traynor said, defiantly.

"Yeah. Have you told Deeks about this yet?" Bates asked.

"No. I don't want to blow his cover by giving him something else to worry about. I thought I could get information about Ortega from a different angle. I want you to backstop me as a madam, looking to set up a whorehouse here in LA. I can get Captain Murray, my former boss in Chicago, to do the same thing. I could keep in touch with Ortega to negotiate for a supply of business girls. Maybe I can also ask some things that Detective Deeks can't get into."

"Why do I get the feeling that you are going to be just as big a pain in the ass as Deeks already is for me?" he said, shaking his head in dismay.

"You're the one who teamed me up with him," she said with a wicked smile on her face. "You know, if we play it right, I could also play a high-rolling call girl. If we need to have a face-to-face, Detective Deeks could make an appointment with me and we could meet up at some motel for an hour or so."

"He and you haven't already been hooking up, have you?" Bates wondered, not believing that even Deeks could work that fast.

"No, we haven't had enough time to do that, although I wouldn't mind getting to know his body a little better. He sure fills out a mean wetsuit," she said with a mischievous grin that just wouldn't quit.

"You have this all figured out, don't you?" Bates asked.

"Yup. After I talk with him tonight, you can have my new lawyer, Dale John Sully, bail me out of jail. Choose some corner where I can get picked up and charge me as a streetwalker known as Felicite Grandmaion."

Bates continued to shake his head. "Hell, what have I gotten myself in for," he moaned. In spite of the fact that red flags were going up in his mind at every single point of her plan, the Lieutenant knew that he would go along with it.

 **. . . . .**

Deeks didn't like the situation his partner proposed at all. With what he found out about Emilio Ortega, he didn't want Jess anywhere near the man. Emilio didn't care who was standing in his way; he would find some way to eliminate them. His dealings with females were even worse. Ortega was one of those men who felt that the only reason women were placed on this earth was to be the sexual servants of men. If they could not fulfill that role, or worse, if they refused to fulfill that role for him, they had no business existing at all. Their lives were forfeited, and would be taken from them in the most painful and degrading way. Deeks needed to protect his partner from that, knowing how opinionated she was. He made Jess swear to him that the only contact she would have with Ortega would be over the phone. She did, but somehow her oath to him didn't really sound convincing.

 **. . . . .**

Two days later Dale John Sully took on a new client. After bailing Felicite out and getting a court date, he put her in a cab outside the station. Then he started to determine how to casually get Jess into Emilio's good graces. He figured that money and power were the two things Emilio loved the most. Somehow he would have to get that to work for him. Maybe he could try to get Ortega to give Felicite her needed start-up funds and accept a healthy percentage of Felicite's business in return. If Ortega would agree to set up and use her bordello as one of the safe houses for shipping his girls, maybe she could get close to him. Traynor's plan had a lot going for it, and could work well barring any complications. Yet, in a lot of ways, the shaggy-haired detective hoped that it would just not come about.

That night the nightmares started for Deeks. He saw himself as an eleven-year-old boy again, cowering at the voice of his father. "You think that you will be able to protect her, boy? You know that will never happen. You're a worthless failure. You loved your mother and tried to protect her. Remember what happened? She was beaten to a pulp. How well did you protect her? You failed at that, miserably. I know you tried to blame me for it. But you know, deep down in your heart that you were at fault.

"You and the law tried to protect Roberta Sanchez, and she got beaten to death. Where was your protection for her? You were the one who failed her. You can't even blame me for her death. I was nowhere around that time that you failed. It was all your fault. You lied to her. You said she was safe. You knew better. The words that you told her and were printed on that paper were not enough, and you knew that. Totally worthless, that's what you are.

"You're just kidding yourself if you think you're gonna protect your partner. Someone is gonna get killed. You? Her? Ortega? I don't know. Maybe all three of you. But you know, it will be your fault no matter what you do. Haha, haha, haha,"

That voice of Gordon Brandel continued to echo in his ears as he woke up in a cold sweat, screaming, "Nooo... You can't hurt her."

 **. . . . .**

The further they got into the operation, the less comfortable he was with it. It almost seemed as if someone was working to undue everything that they worked so hard to find out. Pieces of evidence that had been properly logged into the evidence room suddenly went missing and there was no record of them ever being there. The few witnesses that they finally dug up either refused to testify or decided to skip town. Both of the detectives knew that crimes were being committed by Emilio Ortega and the people under his control. The problem was that no matter how hard they tried, they just couldn't prove it.

Then, one day, Deeks got lucky. He was transferring the property rights from the estate of an old lady in the southern part of Tijuana, Mexico to the syndicate that Emilio had set up.

He overheard Luis Manuel Fellano, Emilio's bodyguard, talking with his boss, saying how nice it was that the old lady met a fortuitous accident. Then he said that their 'friend' in the LAPD might be wanting a bigger payday because of all the help he was giving them.

Deeks could not believe it. They had a dirty cop on the force. Someone was on Ortega's payroll. No wonder they were getting nowhere on this case. Everything that they were doing was being blocked by someone being paid to stop them. He had to get this information to Jess, but wondered if he should tell anyone else. He had not idea who the crooked employee was. The worst thing would be if either he or Jess were burned, and Ortega would find out they were detectives trying to take him down.

 **. . . . .**

Sully put in a call to Felicite. "Hello," she answered the phone in a husky, sexy voice that Deeks almost did not recognize.

"Hi there, Felicite. Remember me?" he said cryptically.

"Hey, Sugar, I have sooo many men in my life. I just can't keep track of all of them. Give me a little hint about who you are and I'll see if I want to continue talking with you." The words just oozed with her professional sexual seduction, an artificially, saccharine sweet voice, not one with any genuine sweetness to it.

"You seemed to want to talk to me quick enough when I bailed you out." Sully reminder her.

"Oh, hey, Sugar, how are you doing? I really want to thank you for what you did for me. Imagine, those detectives must have had me mixed up with some other girl."

"Well, you know 'thanks' don't pay the rent. Your bill with me is starting to mount up. I wonder if we could do something about that?"

"I thought I told you, Sugar, that all my cash is tied up in my business venture. But I would be open to a barter arrangement."

"Yeah, I kinda thought you would. This afternoon?" Sully asked.

"I think that could be arranged. Where?" Felicite inquired.

"Best Western on Sunset in West Hollywood?" Sully wondered if this would be close enough for her.

"That's perrr-fect, Sugar. I'll give you a call before I arrive to find out what room you're in."

"See you then," he said, as he ended the call.

. . . . .

 **Best Western Motel, West Hollywood || June, 2010**

Sully welcomed Felicite into his motel room. As soon as the door closed, those two characters disappeared, and Marty and Jess emerged. Jess walked into the middle of the room, and started taking off her clothes. Marty looked at her in shock.

"You know that I really didn't want to call you here for that? I'm not really that kind of guy." Marty tried to explain to her.

"Relax. I'm not gonna take everything off. But I figure if someone breaks in on us, it will look a heck of a lot more realistic if we are just dressed in our underwear, than if we were fully dressed. Even that might be a stretch, unless you want to claim to have a lingerie fetish." Jess explained.

"Well, I can live with that." Deeks said, and started taking off his own clothes. He stopped when he was just in his boxers.

Jess stopped disrobing when Marty got down to his skivvies. The man had his back to her, and she admired his tight butt. "You know," she said, partially startling him, I thought you really looked good when you were dressed in your wetsuit. Let me tell you, you really look a whole lot better without it on."

Deeks turned and looked at her. She still wasn't down to her bra and panties. "Well, Sugar, are you going to catch up?" he asked, trying to mock the same voice she used over the phone.

"All for you," Jess said, as she shucked off the last of her outer clothing. Again she twirled in front of him and asked with a look of amusement on her face, "see anything you like?"

"I would have to be a stone statue not to like what I see. Damn, lady, you are one truly fine piece of womanhood." he said.

"Well, let's mess up the bed a little bit, and you can tell me what you need to."

"Making sure the stage is fully set?" Marty asked

"The only way to survive in our business."

They ended up sitting with their backs propped up by pillows at the head of the bed. Deeks turned to Jess and told her what he had overheard.

"I have no clue how we are gonna get this assignment done. I overheard Emilio and his bodyguard talk about having a paid informant within the police department. This has to be someone high enough to change the reports that we file."

"Do you have any idea of who it actually is?" Jess was mentally trying to run through the people she knew in the department, trying to think if any of them could be their betrayer.

"No, but I also get a bad feeling in my gut that we need to be careful and find out who this source for Emilio is and get enough evidence on him to convict him. Otherwise, he might actually try to pin the failure of the operation on us, or even worse, make one of us out to be the informant."

"Why do I feel that this job just got a whole lot more difficult," Jess asked, turning toward her partner with a look in her eye that could only be described as pure lust.

Marty looked at her and wondered, _Was she more intent on getting her hands on Emilio's paid informant, or him. From the look in her eyes, he wasn't sure anymore._

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	5. Chapter 5

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 **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS:LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-5 (but I do have season 6 on order). I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

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 **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead**

 **Chapter 5**

 **Holiday Lodge Hotel, Brentwood || April, 2010**

Jess reluctantly changed the scope of her questions with Ortega. No longer was she trying to get information on the crime lord. Now she wanted to win over his trust, to see if she could get him to tell her who he was paying off in the department.

But for her cousin's sake, she didn't want to get too far away from the crime lord's proposed human trafficking enterprise. At her next face to face meeting, she let something slip about the incident with her and Christina. Deeks zeroed in on that, along with her reluctance to switch from Ortega to the unknown corrupt cop. He demanded that Jess tell him the whole story, which she finally did, grudgingly.

When he heard it, Marty blew up. "Damn it, Jess. I should go to Bates right now and call this whole thing off. You know better than to get involved in cases that are personal. Bates is gonna explode when he hears about this." Marty was mad enough to get up off the bed and start pacing in front of her.

"Ahh..., Marty,... Bates already knows. I told him the second week that we were on this assignment,"

"WHAT?' he yelled at her, "You told Bates, but you didn't tell me? What the hell is going on, here Jess? Don't you trust me enough to let me know what's going on with you?" Shit. That's why I don't like to work with a partner. I should have known that you would be no different."

"It wasn't a matter of trust, Marty. It never was. I just was worried about you having to be with a monster who doesn't care about how he treats people all day long. I didn't want to add to your worries by letting you know how personal it really is for me."

"But you've been a cop long enough to know that the closer you get to the case, the more of a problem it becomes for you. The more personal that it becomes for you, the more likely you are gonna make a mistake. You are gonna start thinking with your heart, and not with your head."

"I know all that. But Marty, you have to see things from my point of view." She had gotten up and stopped him from pacing. She forced him to sit with her at the foot of the bed and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close.

"Which is?" He still was irate with her. His heart was racing, his breathing was labored, and his face was red with anger.

"It's one of the reasons why I became a cop. I saw what the not knowing did to my aunt and uncle, and to my parents. It was almost a relief when Christina's body was found. I don't want anyone else to have to go through something like that. If I can prevent any other parents from having to go through such emotional pain, I will do it, and don't care how personal it becomes for me."

"Well, I can tell you right now, it's way too personal for you. And now that you told me it has become personal for me too. And the longer that I am near you, the more personal it is becoming."

Marty knew that he was going to cave in to her. Not only was she begging and pleading with him with her words, but she was embracing him tightly. Her lips were next to his ear, and she was just whispering her arguments into it. Even though she still had her bra on, her breasts were mashed into his chest and it felt like her nipples were hard enough to break through the fabric and bore holes into his skin. Already he was starting to respond to her, even though he was trying his best not to. A human male can only take so much when he is wrapped up in the arms of a beautiful woman like Jess.

"Damn it, Jess. You are not fighting fair. You are trying to seduce me into giving in to you."

"A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do," she said, rubbing her hand up and down his arm. "Besides, isn't that the way it works when you are undercover? You use anything and everything at your disposal to get the job done."

Marty looked deep into her eyes and gave her a kiss on the forehead. He then got up, twisting away from her so she couldn't see how geat an effect she already had on his arousal.

"I'm gonna go take a shower," he told her, "a long cold one."

Jess just laughed, because she had already gotten a look at how much effect she had on his body.

"So, what about the assignment? Are we still on or are you gonna go and tell Bates to call it all off?"

Knowing that he would feel the same damn way if he were in her shoes, Deeks just stuck his head out the bathroom door. "That depends entirely on you. Will you swear to me that your first priority would be finding out which cop Ortega has on his payroll? Only then can I concern myself with my part of the operation and not constantly worry about you."

"Do you want me to come in there and seal it with a kiss?" she asked with a smile on her face.

"Jess! Stop fooling around. This is serious. If you can't be serious about it, I'm gonna pull the plug on the whole thing."

She sat back down and wiped the smile off of her face. "I'm sorry, Marty. I know how serious it really is. Christina is always on my mind. I promise you that will be my first priority. But you have to promise me that I can be in on taking down Emilio and the guy bankrolling him."

"I guess we have come to a meeting of the minds, then. "I'll make sure that there is a place for you when we finally take these scumbags down."

 **. . . . .**

Deeks was concentrating on the one who was bankrolling the whole operation. Radovan Lazik, a Serbian about whom not much was known. He was said to be a major crime lord in Serbia with a specialty of running a human trafficking ring throughout Europe. Even if he wasn't actively involved, he traveled extensively in the circles of organized crime and former security officials there. He had links to the Russian Mafia, was suspected of laundering money for the Colombians, was suspected of having links to the heroin trade out of Afghanistan, suspected of organizing or being directly involved in at least five murders, including the political assassination of the Serbian prime minister in 2003.

But the man was very careful. He always worked through intermediaries, like Ortega. That was why there was little that was actually known about him. He had no criminal record to flag him in the crime databases of Interpol, any of its member organizations, or any national police service. The man has never been caught or prosecuted for any crime. Deeks was sure that he could make a case against him.

Throughout the summer, Deeks made appointments to meet Jess in her 'Felicite Grandmaion' identity. They used these meetings to coordinate their attack on Ortega and Lazik, and the hunt for the cop that had gone bad.

But it grew to be something more than that for Deeks. This was the first time he had ever gone undercover with a partner. A female partner. His meetings with her began to fill the needs he had deep in his soul. Not just the need to keep his Max Gentry persona buried deep within him and keep the nightmares of his father locked behind the walls in some corner of his mind. He needed her more for the beneficial things she brought to his life, her smile that could light up the room and instantly lift his spirits, her infectious laughter that could instantly pierce through all the gloom and return the joy to his life, the way she could touch his body and remove every ache and pain that tried to damage him and sap his strength. But what was even worse, he had to completely fight the normal, physical needs he had as a man when he was in the presence of a woman who looked as wonderful as she did. He knew, however, that was a fight that someday, he would lose.

 **. . . . .**

 **Highland Park Motel, Highland Park, CA || August, 2010**

One night in early August, they met just to compare notes and see where they wanted to go with the investigation. It was sweltering that evening, and the air conditioning in the room was only blowing a tepid breeze. Both of them needed a shower, and Jess told him to take his first. Turning the water on cold, to cool his body and lower his lust, Deeks stepped in and indulged himself in the invigorating water. He was totally stunned when Jess pulled back the shower curtain and stepped in behind him.

"Is there enough room for you to share, Marty?" she asked as she turned his body around..

"O god, Jess, you don't want to do this to me," he answered.

"Why not?" she said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Because if I stay in here with you just a few seconds longer, I won't be able to stop myself." he admitted.

"Well, there is a simple answer to that. Just take me to bed." she said as she pulled his head down just slightly and kissed him.

He picked her up in the traditional bridal carry, grabbed a couple of bath towels, and headed toward the nearest queen sized bed.

 **. . . . .**

As they both exited the motel room several hours later, Deeks stopped her and gave her one more kiss. Then he reached into his jacket pocket, took out his wallet and placed a couple of bills into her hand.

He smiled at her and whispered, "For appearances sake."

Then he dug back into his wallet and took out all the remaining bills. He put these into her hand too and said in a voice just a shade louder than normal, "For services above and beyond the call of duty."

She giggled at this and then got into the cab that had pulled up and was waiting for her. He walked over to his car, thinking, _What an incredible woman she was. He could see himself settle down with her and work out their version of the American dream._

Three more times she met with him that summer and shared her body, along with the information he needed. She definitely was a woman who could fulfill all of his needs, both on and off the job.

 **. . . . .**

 **Emilio Ortega's Compound || September 11, 2010**

The crooked cop was just as busy during this time as were the two detectives. Word got out on the street that Emilio Ortega had someone from the Los Angeles police department in his pocket. Someone was providing information to Emilio and he was providing the informant a monthly bonus to his pay.

At first, Emilio was worried. He was supposed to use the money Lazik provided him to buy up the properties for the safe houses, not give it away to the cops. If Lazik ever found out, he might be a little upset.

But then Emilio took a good hard look at all the work he was doing, compared to the fact that Lazik was just putting up the money. Lazik obviously was a man who did not want to get his hands dirty. Emilio was the one who was taking all the risks in getting the properties. All of the security systems that needed to be put in place were done by him and his crews. Anything that involved manual labor on these homes was done by his people. He should be compensated for all his time and effort. Lazik owed him.

It didn't help his attitude any when he heard the rumors that Lazik did the same thing with his partners over in Europe. He always provided the money but never did any of the work. And, strangely enough, when the deal was completed, Lazik single-handedly inherited all of the property and profits. All of his partners suddenly retired from the business and were never seen or heard from again.

Emilio's anger was starting to get the best of him. He wouldn't tolerate anything like that among the people he had working for him. He wouldn't let any damn foreigner do that to him either. Just let Lazik come anywhere near him. Emilio would show this money man just how business is done here, even if it killed Lazik to learn his lesson. Emilio Ortega was not born yesterday. He had fought his way to the position he enjoyed today. And he would fight to keep that position.

 **Emilio Ortega's Compound || September 21, 2010**

Detective Marty Deeks had spent two hours with Detective Jess Traynor the night before in a regular debriefing session followed by another glorious physical encounter on the king sized bed. When they left, Sully the lawyer, ran his hand through the hair of Felicite, the madam.

"I could do this each and every day," he said.

"Mmm, it certainly was fun." she replied.

She got into her cab, and he his car, and they both went to their beds, alone.

The next afternoon, Deeks and Ortega had some papers to sign downtown. The two of them, plus Luis Fellano, Ortega's bodyguard, were on their way home when Sully received a text message from Felicite, that she had to see him that evening. Marty smiled to himself, thinking that the girl just couldn't get enough of him. He was just about to text her back when the car pulled up to the Ortega compound and Emilio started swearing that the batteries for the security gate must be dead because the gate was not opening.

Marty jumped out of the car and started to punch in the security code. His fingers were just about to punch in the third number when a bomb detonated in the car in which he had been riding. A huge explosion and fireball rocked the driveway area. It was hard to imagine that anyone in or around the car lived through the inferno.

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	6. Chapter 6

**=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?**

 **A/N: Some of the dialog from Season 2 - Episode 1 - 'Human Trafficking' is used in this chapter.**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS:LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-5 (but I do have season 6 on order). I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

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 **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead**

 **Chapter 6**

 **. . . . .**

 **Ops, Mission Headquarters || September 22, 2010**

Everyone had finally assembled up in Ops as Hetty had requested. Unlike normal, she was the one to begin the briefing.

"Early this morning, I received a call from the LAPD. Detective Deeks has been on a deep, extended undercover operation that started when he last left us."

Kensi asked, "That was six months ago, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Hetty replied. "And in all that time he has not failed to check in. However, he now seems to have gone missing. LAPD has no clue of where he is or what he is doing."

Callen asked, "When was the last time he checked in?"

"Yesterday afternoon," Hetty replied.

"That's not all that long," Sam said, shaking his head. "Sometimes when G goes undercover for another alphabet agency, it might be weeks before we hear something from him. Why are they worried about him?"

Hetty nodded to Eric, "The video, Mr. Beale."

The huge plasma screen showed a picture of a scene that anyone would swear was in a war zone. A burned-out shell of a car was in the center, and pieces of the vehicle were scattered nearby in every direction. Huge dents in the gated wall, where shrapnel chipped out the pieces, testified to the magnitude of the blast.

"This happened a little over fourteen hours ago," Eric informed them. "The bomb went off just outside the compound of Emilio Philip Ortega in south central LA. Two bodies were found. They have been identified as Emilio Ortega and his bodyguard, Luis Manuel Fellano."

Eric added the pictures of both men onto the screen as he continued, "Both of these men have major criminal records, mainly involving violent crimes."

Hetty continued, "Both men were the target of the Detective's undercover investigation. I received a call from his handler asking if he had contacted us. I volunteered our help and cooperation."

Callen asked the obvious, "There is no military connection, is there?"

Hetty stared him down as she said, "There is not. But the Detective is still our liaison with the LAPD. He is part of this team even though he is not an agent. Detective Jess Traynor, his handler for this case, will meet you at the boathouse."

Sam went closer to the pictures up on the plasma and shook his head, "Deeks should have called in right away when this happened."

Hetty agreed with him, "And that is why we are so concerned."

 **. . . . .**

 **The Boathouse || a half hour later - September 22, 2010**

Detective Jess Traynor was filling the three agents in on the undercover case that her partner was working. As she put up pictures on the screen, she gave them the background information on the deceased Emilio Ortega and his rise to power.

"Six months ago, we got a tip from an informant that Emilio was planning on moving on from the extortion business to bigger and better things. Someone wanted the skills he had developed and is willing to pay for it," Traynor told them.

"Protection and shakedown, even with muscle behind it, isn't a particularly unique skill. Most LA street gangs can do that," Kensi offered.

"His unique skill he learned early from his father," the Detective continued. "He knows how to slip across the U.S.-Mexican border with ease."

Kensi wondered, "Is he bringing up drugs to exchange for guns?"

"No, he is getting into human trafficking," Traynor said. "Teenage girls and young women from South America, maybe even as far away as Brazil."

"Do you know who contacted Ortega?" Callen asked.

Traynor put another picture up with the others. "We believe he is from Serbia, a man named Lazik. He has no criminal record and little is known about him. The rumor is that he already runs a human trafficking ring in Europe. But he has never been caught in any illegal activity."

"Branching out into the international market?" Sam remarked.

Traynor continued the briefing. "Lazik is advancing the money so Emilio could set up a series of safe houses. Emilio had to have someone who knows the ropes in the world of real estate. We provided him one."

Kensi asked, "Deeks?"

Traynor nodded. "He went undercover as a lawyer whose license was pulled because he was involved in several fraudulent land deals. This was an easy one for Marty...Detective Deeks to spin. You know he is a lawyer, didn't you?"

Callen had read the files on all the team members. He remembered that Deeks was a public defender before he became a cop. "I knew that," he told Traynor.

Both Kensi and Sam turned toward each other with a stunned look on their faces. It was quite obvious that neither of them knew that about Deeks.

Callen continued with Traynor. "So who do you think killed Emilio?"

"The man was truly pissed off that he had to do all of the work and Lazik would make all the money. He told Deeks he was gonna do something about it." Traynor acknowledged.

"Someone must have notified Lazik." Sam reasoned.

"And he is taking back control of the operation," Callen added.

Kensi was worried when she asked "But where does Deeks fit into all of this?"

Traynor shook her head and admitted, "I have no idea. I wish I had a clue."

 **. . . . .**

When the briefing was over, everyone went out toward their cars. The agents are still questioning Traynor, wanting to know as much as possible to help in finding Deeks.

"Cell phone," Kensi asked.

"He turned it off," Traynor answered.

"What about GPS tracking?" Sam wanted to know.

"The only thing tagged was Deeks' car," the Detective responded. "It was found just a couple of blocks from our safe house. We have set protocols for situations like this. Deeks knows them, but he hasn't complied with any of them."

Then Callen asked, "Who was the last one in contact with him?"

"I was," she answered. All three of the agents stopped and turned toward her. The looks on their faces were accusing her of something, even though they didn't know what it was yet.

"It was a regular debriefing session," Traynor said, defending herself.

Callen continued to push, "You need to share that intel with us. We have to know everything.

"You will," Traynor said as she turned away from them and headed to her car, just a few feet behind her.

Sam point blank asked her, "Do you think he's dead?"

Traynor looked at him in shock, "Sixteen hours, no word, nothing. What does that say to you?" She shook her head and turned once more to go to her car.

Kensi, Sam, and Callen watched her for a minute, then turned and walked the other way toward their cars.

"There is something she is holding back from us," Callen told the others.

"She likes him," Kensi responded. "She just can't admit it."

"No, there's something more," Callen insisted. "I think she's trying to hide something from us."

"One way to find out," Sam suggested. "Let's just go and ask her."

The three of them turned around and started off to where Traynor's car was parked. They saw that she had just sat down and was adjusting her seat belt. Before they could take their first step toward her, a bomb in her car was detonated.

There was a huge ball of fire and smoke. Flames were pouring out of the interior of the car. Several of the cars nearby had their alarms set off and were blaring. Sam had his gun drawn, looking for someone who may have triggered the bomb. Kensi started to help a man who had been knocked down by the blast. Callen called the fire department.

No one rushed to the car to see if they could pull Traynor out of the flaming wreck. There was no need. There was no hope for her. Jess Traynor had been completely incinerated.

 **. . . . .**

 **Outside The Boathouse || September 22, 2010**

Los Angeles firefighters were wrapping up their hoses and getting ready to leave. Several LAPD cruisers were there, along with police barricades, preserving the crime scene and holding back the crowds.

LAPD Detective Frank Scarli was talking with Callen. The two men had history, and Scarli was one to hold a grudge. The last time they butted heads NCIS pulled rank and Callen pulled a case out from under the Detective. Scarli was not going to let that happen again.

"You know, Callen, I don't have to share anything with you. I don't need your help. Just let me do my job." Scarli instructed the agent.

"It's your crime scene," Callen said, letting the Detective know that NCIS wouldn't challenge him for jurisdiction.

Scarli saw Sam approaching and asked, "Who's he?"

Sam introduced himself and shook hands with Scarli.

"How many were there for Traynor's briefing?" Scarli asked.

"Three," Sam answered.

"I need all your witness statements. Include the briefing, and don't leave anything out." Scarli demanded.

Sam wondered at the indifference the man was displaying toward Traynor's death. "Sorry for your loss." The look that Scarli gave Sam baffled him. There was no sorrow. Instead Sam got the feeling that the Detective was trying to figure out how much he knew about the whole situation.

"Was she your partner?" Sam asked for clarification. Traynor was introduced to them as Deeks' handler, but she did not necessarily have to be his partner too.

Scarli nearly spit out the words as he started to walk off, "No." She was Deeks' partner. She was assigned to him when she first started here. I had no resentment about that. The woman could be extremely troublesome. You know they worked together on this case for four months. Four months..."

Scarli walked past the car and looked at the burned up body of Traynor sitting in the driver's seat. Her hair had been completely burned off of her head and her body looked like piece of meat that was left on the grill way too long.

Scarli looked back at Sam and Callen. "You know what their investigation had at the end of four months? Absolutely nothing. Nobody could understand why. Did she mention that when she briefed you?" Scarli's eyebrow rose, as he expected the agents didn't have this information yet.

Both Sam and Callen looked at each other, knowing that she said nothing about that.

"No?" Scarli continued, "I didn't think she did. This wasn't enough of a case for any detectives yesterday. It was so dead it belonged in the morgue. Today I got a dead cop, two missing, and a triple murder. I got enough to do on my own. I don't need to clean up the messes left by others."

"You mean Lazik?" Callen asked.

"There are a lot of guys that would love to take out Emilio Ortega, on both sides of the border. They wouldn't think twice about killing a cop or two, either."

Scarli seemed finished with the agents and started walking off to work the case before him. But then he stopped and started to rant, "But he's gonna learn that you can't do this here and not pay for it. This is California, not Mexico, at least for now."

Callen posed the possibility, "But what if Deeks isn't dead? What if his cover is still intact?"

Scarli closed the distance between them. "Go over there and look at Traynor. Take a good look," he said as he pointed to the car. "Then you tell me how you think that Deeks can possibly still be alive." He barked the final words at them before he left. "This is an LAPD investigation. You people need to stay out of our way."

Sam mentioned, "He's looking for payback."

Callen looked at Sam, then at Scarli going back to his car.

Kensi came up behind the two agents. She had been doing her own examination of the scene and reported her results. "I've seen the same thing before, the pattern of the blast and the size of the detonation."

"Where?" Callen wanted to know.

"The board at Ops this morning. The crime scene pictures of Emilio's car."

Sam looked at the scene around them and started to do his own calculations. "They didn't use a timer. They couldn't make sure she would be in the car when it went off."

Kensi added, "And there wasn't enough time to wire it into the ignition. The only thing that is left..."

Sam pantomimed pressing a trigger with his hand and thumb. "A remote. The killer was here...watching her...waiting for just the right moment."

Even though they knew that the assassin was long gone, the agents looked over the people that were still there, searching their faces for some clue that they knew they were not going to find.

 **. . . . .**

 **Ops, NCIS Headquarters, Los Angeles || September 22, 2010**

The giant plasma screen up in Ops was covered with images of Ortega, Fellano, and Lazik. Lazik's passport, maps of different areas of the world, alerts from different law enforcement agencies were also there. But the one that was the most eye-catching of them all, was the picture of Ortega's blown apart and charred wreck.

Callen read the destination stamps on Lazik's passport. "He travels extensively, Several trips to the Middle East, Africa, South America. He seems to spend as much time outside of Europe as he does at home."

"And the worst he has been charged with is speeding," Kensi said, cynically.

"Eric, I need you to find him, right now," Callen demanded.

Eric looked up at him and continued typing for a minute on his iPad, then got up and moved over to the plasma. He put up another picture of Lazik's passport on the screen.

"I've been busy working on that. He has one of those new 'smart' passports, one that is electronically tagged. He's been moving, Through Paris, to Dubai, where he transferred to...oh, you're not gonna like where he has ended up."

"Where is he, Eric?" Callen was getting a little irritable with the young man.

Eric put up a new picture of Lazik on the plasma and looked at Callen.

"This was taken twenty-four hours ago at an immigration gateway at LAX. He's here,...in Los Angeles.

 **. . . . .**

 **Firing Range, NCIS Headquarters, Los Angeles || September 22, 2010**

Callen found Hetty down on the firing range, training. He stood outside the room, waiting for her to finish that round. As she finished, Callen entered and asked her, "When did you start shooting with your left hand?"

Hetty pulled the paper target back, "It's not very often, but every once in a while it comes in handy."

She started to clean her pistol, as Callen filled her in on the latest developments in the case.

"Eric has found Lazik...the Serbian landed at LAX International yesterday, just two hours before Ortega's car went up in flames."

Hetty looked at him and asked, "Anything else?"

"LAPD doesn't want to share with us." Callen added.

"Considering what has happened to Detective Traynor," Hetty continued to clean her pistol as she spoke, "that is completely reasonable."

"We were told to stay out of their way."

"Indeed, then that is what you need to do. Keep out of their way, and find Detective Deeks."

"If they catch us, they are not gonna like it." Callen admitted.

"Why, then the obvious conclusion would be to not get caught." Hetty countered.

Her cell phone rang and Hetty answered it. "Lange...Where?...When...I will."

She ended the call and folded up her phone. Looking at her agent, "She gave him specific orders, "Find Lazik."

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	7. Chapter 7

**Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead**

 **Chapter 7**

 **A/N: This chapter and the next draw heavily from season 2 Episode 1 'Human Traffic'. We need to get Deeks through the mission so he can deal with his emotions and the rest of the team.**

 **Tiki-Ti Bar, Los Angeles || Afternoon, September 22, 2010**

Marty had no place else to turn. He called Hetty and arranged to meet her where she first offered him a job at NCIS. He entered the bar and saw her at one of the tables, playing her scrabble game with the Russian tiles and walked up to her.

She looked up at him and said, "Mr. Deeks, you look like hell. We thought you were dead."

Deeks ran his hand through his hair, "No... Not today," he said in a weak voice.

Hetty stared at him. His face was scratched up and burned. The clothes he wore looked like he hadn't changed in a week and there was blood visible on his shirt. His usual smile was gone from his face. The best thing that could be said about him was that he looked worn out.

"...Maybe tomorrow," after the short delay he continued his thought. But his face told her it was more of an afterthought, that he had weighed all of his options and this was the best solution that he had come up with.

The detective sat down in front of Hetty and slowly started to sip the tea that had been placed in front of him.

Hetty immediately began to worry about the mental stability of her detective. He began to engage her in some light banter about the Russian scrabble game, but his heart was not really in it.

Hetty went back to finding out what she could about his condition. "Are you hurt very badly?" she asked.

"I'm hurting all over." he responded.

Hetty just stared at him and said "Hmm," drawing it out so that he would continue to tell her what she wanted to know. Was it just physical pain from the explosion he lived through or had he heard about his partner's death under similar circumstances?

Deeks knew what she was doing, so he went on explaining what happened. "I was with Fellano and Emilio as Emilio drove up to his compound. The security gate remote either failed or the batteries died. I jumped out to punch in the code for them..."

A small sarcastic smile crossed his face as he let out a deep sigh, mentally reliving the scene all over again before he continued, "...a couple of seconds sooner...well, you know what would have happened.

Hetty closed her eyes and shook her head just a little bit as she, too, contemplated the outcome he didn't mention.

"As it was, I was shoved up against the gate. I'm gonna be wearing those bruises for at least a week. I must have been knocked out for a couple of minutes, because the next thing I knew, Emilio's bodyguards picked me up and tossed me into the back of their car. They took me to a ...doctor, which I swear was a vet, now that I think about it again..."

Again Hetty closed her eyes and drew in a sharp breath, as she speculated on all this man had gone through.

"...He fixed me up... gave me a full shot of horse tranquilizer...that put me out for fifteen hours. When I came to, I...I tried to call her, but she,...uh...uh..."

Hetty realized he couldn't even say her name, so she filled it in for him, "Detective Traynor."

Deeks finished his explanation, "...Too late."

He sipped his tea with an other-worldly look on his face. Hetty now knew that her detective had heard about the death of his partner. What she couldn't know was he heard his father laughing at him in his mind, accusing him of sleeping on the job when he should have been protecting Jess.

Hetty pulled him back to reality when she asked him, "This was an LAPD operation. Why did you call me, instead of them?"

Deeks defended himself, "LAPD would have pulled me off the case and then just shut it down."

"Your case is no longer viable, Mr. Deeks. When Detective Traynor died, the case died with her."

Deeks started to argue with her, "Okay, Hetty, I know that Lazik's in town. The vet told me this before he knocked me out. Emilio's bodyguards didn't hang around long when they heard about it; they like disappeared. Lazik, this man is scary, big time."

Hetty asked him point blank, "Your opinion is then that he is responsible?"

Deeks looked at her bewildered, "You got to be kidding. Who doesn't?"

Hetty offered him the hypothesis that was given to her other agents. "The LAPD believes that there are any number of enemies wanting Emilio taken down."

Deeks was quick to contradict that. "No. It has to be Lazik, don't you understand? Every time Lazik called Emilio, they would end up arguing. Emilio was supposed to set up a channel for Lazik to illegally transport girls out of Mexico. These are under-aged girls that have been kidnaped and strung out on drugs..."

Deeks had another flashback. This time it was Christina, Jess's cousin, who went through all of this so long ago, with no one to save her, who raced through his memories. "...little girls drugged senseless."

"But you cannot prove it," Hetty countered.

"No, not now," he admitted. "The first group of girls would have been the proof."

Hetty looked at him and asked, her hands emphasizing each word, "What exactly do you want me to do for you, Mr. Deeks?"

Deeks pleaded with her, "I need you to help me finish what the two of us started. We all know that Lasik put a whole lot of money into this venture. He is not gonna want to turn his back on it and lose everything. He needs to find a replacement for Emilio. That's what I want."

Hetty made her decision and went back into Director mode. She slipped a key to Deeks and told him, "This is one of our safe houses. The address is there on the tag. Go there and get some sleep. In the morning, call me. She hoped that he would think more clearly, when that was done. I make no promises, but I will see what I can work out with the LAPD. They might simply tell me to bugger off."

Deeks laughed at the thought of that happening. "Right. I'd like to be there when they try to do that."

Hetty looked intently at him, "Be careful, Mr. Deeks."

A look of gratitude came over the detective's face. "I will," he said, "And thank you."

He got up, took the key, and walked out of the bar.

 ** **. . . . .****

Hetty picked up her tea and started to sip it as she watched Deeks leave. When the glass door closed behind him and his form was no longer visible, the old spy called out to her senior agent. "You can come in now, Mr. Callen."

As the service door to the kitchen opened, and Callen entered the room behind her, she continued in a sharp tone, "I do not appreciate it when you tail me."

"I didn't tail you," Callen told her. "I figured it out. I guess that makes me more of a wingman than a tailman."

Hetty was surprised at his answer and asked him, "What gave it away?"

"Before you got the phone call, you told me to 'Find Deeks.' After you took the call, your order was 'Find Lazik'."

"I guess that I am starting to get careless." was Hetty's self-evaluation as she shook her head.

Callen stated the obvious, "We have to find Lazik before he can find Deeks.

 ** **. . . . .****

As Callen arrived back at the Mission, Sam and Kensi were rushing down the stairs.

"Where you been, man?" Sam asked his partner.

"Deeks is alive." the senior agent told the other two.

Kensi looked relieved, "You talked with him?"

Callen replied, "No. Hetty did. He seems okay, a little rattled from the explosion. Hetty has him hiding out in one of our safe houses. What's up with you two?"

Sam answered, "There's a crack in Lazik's defense. He has a desperate cocaine craving.

"LAPD says that Lazik has been to LA three times in the past year," Kensi added. "He stays in a different place every time, but always uses the same dealer, Tommy Bishop."

Callen asked, "Where do we find him?"

Kensi tells him, "Bishop drives a bright yellow '87 Camaro.

Sam added, "He's up and down Hollywood Boulevard all day. Works his deals on a satellite phone."

Callen asked, "Can we tap it?"

Kensi shook her head as she said, "Eric tried that, but it was encrypted."

"Then we tap him," Sam said.

 **. . . . .**

 ** **Hollywood Boulevard || September 22, 2010****

Tommy Bishop, dressed in a white shirt, red jacket, and black hat was on his phone, walking back and forth alongside his car, as he tried to strike a deal.

Sam was sitting in the Challenger, watching him, and said over the com, "The man looks like a pimp. Okay, Kens, you're up."

There was the sound of the tires laying down a patch of rubber, as the brakes locked up. But the red car could not stop in time and plowed into the rear end of the yellow Camaro.

Bishop looked at the damage and just blurted out "Oh, shit.!"

Kensi got out of the red car, seemingly flustered and apologetic. "I'm so, so sorry," she gushed.

"Look what you did to my car," Bishop moaned.

"Wow, all that damage?" Kensi asked as she looked at his car.

"Why, Lady! The whole street was yours! You just had to do this?"

Kensi sounded really upset. "It was all my fault. I was reading a text message and when I looked up a second later..."

"You were reading a text message? What the heck's wrong with you?"

"That looks pretty bad," as Kensi points to the damage on Bishop's car. "So, maybe we should call the police or exchange insurance information?"

Bishop immediately changed his tune. Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he contended, "Forget about it...okay? Just...forget about it."

"I can't do that," Kensi exclaimed. "I did it. I should have to take care of it."

"Don't worry about it. I got it."

"Seriously?" she asked, sounding as grateful as she could. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." She pulled him into a hug and stuck a bug under the collar of his jacket.

"No big deal, Lady," Bishop told her as he tried to get away from her embrace. "It's okay I tell you."

"Thank you so much," Kensi responded as she backed off.

"If you can't bug the phone, make sure the man is bugged. Eric, bug is in place." Sam said over the com.

"Copy that, Sam," Eric responded. "Bug turned on."

Police sirens can be heard coming closer.

"Hold on, Eric. We may have a problem," Sam announced as he got out of the Challenger.

The sirens quit as several plainclothes detectives' cars screeched to a halt nearby. Bishop started to run away, but Kensi collared him and spun him into the wall.

"Stop right now," she told him.

Detective Scarli got out of one the cars and walked up to Bishop and Kensi.

Bishop was just yelling, "What's happening, man? It wasn't me! You got the wrong guy!"

Scarli came up and handcuffed Bishop as he told him, "LAPD. Just stay where you are."

Sam grabbed Scarli's arm as he yelled at him, "Wait a minute, Detective Scarli."

"Didn't I tell you to back off on this?" Scarli growled at Sam and tried to take him into custody.

"It's our collar," Sam tried to explain,

"The hell he is," Scarli snarled as he handed Bishop off to two other detectives. He then turned back to Sam and Kensi. "It's an LAPD arrest. I told you that I would take care of this. Everything, every name, every address, everything in Traynor's file belongs to me. You need to stay the hell away. Understand that, Agent Hanna?" The detective looked so angry, the veins were standing out on his face.

"Yeah, we understand."

"Great," Scarli said as he returned to the detective's car, where Bishop was still proclaiming his innocence from the back seat.

Sam and Kensi watched them leave and Sam remarked, "So much for the plan."

Kensi pulled out Bishop's satellite phone from her back pocket and tossed it to Sam as she said, "Time to go to plan B."

Sam looked at the phone and gently pinched the cheek of the sly agent with him. They both smiled at the results.

 ** **. . . . .****

 ** **Ops, NCIS Headquarters, Los Angeles || September 22, 2010****

As Sam entered Ops he saw Eric working at his station and gave him the satellite phone. "Here's Bishop's phone, Eric."

"Do you know if Lazik called him?" the tech asked him.

"That's what you're going to tell us."

"Okay. Break through the encryption, find out what's there. Check." Then he said with a cunning smile on his face, "And we've got something for you, too."

Parts of Ortega's file are displayed up on the plasma. Nate started to explain, "There is Ortega's cell phone log. Eric ran a check on all incoming and outgoing numbers. One number," he hit the control and some of the phone numbers were highlighted, "came up twenty-seven times in the last six months. Almost all of them were received by Ortega. Call length varied. Some were a couple of seconds, most were between five and ten minutes long."

Kensi asked, "Do we know who called?"

Nate told them, "You're not gonna believe it."

"Who is it, Nate," Sam demanded.

Nate hit the control again and a new picture came up on the plasma. "Detective Jess Traynor. I said you're not gonna believe it."

None of the three agents wanted to accept it.

Callen wondered, "Is that a landline number or cell phone number?"

"Cell phone," Nate answered. Eric managed to get into Ortega's voice mail. There was only the one message."

Another click from Nate and Traynor's recorded voice could be heard. "Emi...li...o... Tray...nor" she said in a sing-song voice like she had a close relationship with him. "We need to meet. Same place. In two hours. Call if you can't make it"

Sam is wondering, "Face to face as well as phone hook ups."

Callen appeared to be disturbed at this. "It was more than just once. When was that message recorded, Nate?"

Nate checked the log, "About an hour before the bomb went off under Ortega."

Sam wondered, "Did he ever get back to her?"

"No record of it," Nate responded.

"Then he was planning to meet up with her," Sam figured.

"So Emilio had Deeks' handler on his payroll," Kensi concluded.

"Scarli said they had nothing. Six months and the investigation was going nowhere. This may be the reason why." Sam speculated.

Kensi couldn't understand it. "Why would Traynor obstruct her own operation? I don't...

"What about it, Nate?" Callen asked.

"It could happen. Wouldn't be the first time." Nate answered. "If she did, it was probably for the money she was offered."

Sam made the next logical conclusion, "If Lazik found out that Emilio has a cop on the take and didn't like it...he just might nail both of them, permanently.

Kensi looked worried as she asked the inevitable question. "So, where does this leave Deeks?"

Callen was shaking his head as he came to the only conclusion he knew possible. "If Lazik knew about Traynor, you have to be convinced that he knew about Deeks, too. That would leave him number one on Lazik's hit list.

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	8. Chapter 8

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 **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead**

 **Chapter 8**

 **A/N: This is the second chapter that draws heavily (some might say excessively) from season 2 Episode 1 'Human Traffic'. I did add my own explanations with a substitute understanding of the facts why the scene played out the way it did. We need to get Deeks through the mission so he can deal with his emotions and the rest of the team.**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS:LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-6. I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

 **=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 **Ops, NCIS Headquarters, Los Angeles ||**

Eric hurried over to the bullpen where the team members were talking about Deeks.

"I made it in." He went to a computer station off to the side and started typing on the keyboard. "Bishop encrypted everything on his phone, but he went with the cheap security protocols, never updating them. His encryption looks like it was done by a child." New information appeared up on his screen.

"Twenty minutes after he landed, Lazik put in a call to Bishop," Eric added.

"He needed a quick score after that long flight," Nate declared.

"Guys, his phone is still on. I'm searching for it." A beep sounded several times, then a tone rang out, indicating a successful outcome of the search. "There he is. Well, at least we got his cell phone."

"I just hope that someone else didn't borrow it," Kensi said, worried.

"Let's find out," Sam said as he dialed a number from Bishop's phone on the computer. He put the call on speaker as it was ringing. "Shh..." he said, bringing his finger to his lips.

A voice came over the speaker, "Hello? Hello?" The person speaking took the phone from his ear and looked at the caller ID, showing his face on the cell phone camera. The picture on the computer screen was there for everyone to see.

Eric froze the picture from the phone and posted Lazik's passport photo next to it. "So someone else did not borrow his phone. Okay, what do we do now?"

"Deeks is technically still a cop and not an agent." Nate figured. "We should give all this information to Detective Scarli because it all belongs to the LAPD?" He saw that all the agents were looking at him, not believing what he just said. "But Deeks is one of us, so..." his voice trailed off.

Callen turned toward Eric and asked, "Have an address, Eric?"

"It's an industrial backup area a short distance outside of Long Beach. Only building there is a deactivated power plant. It's just a short distance off the 101.

As Callen, Sam, and Kensi were on their way out of Ops, Callen called out to Eric, "Find out if there are any security cameras."

Nate sat down next to the tech and watched him type. Eric brought up the information on the screen. Pictures of the plant appeared along with some of the plant's history. "The Long Beach power plant is still owned by the state through Southern California Edison Company, not by the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power. They dismantled and removed the generators over a decade ago when there was a push away from fossil fuels for generating electricity. But just maybe, if we are lucky, the security cameras might still be operating." Eric continued to type on his computer, pulling up more information.

"Aha. There it is. Deactivated for years, but the cameras are still active. Your tax dollars working for you. Bureaucracy, ya gotta love it."

Nate looked at him and smiled, "You mean the bureaucracy that pays our salaries?"

Eric returned the smile, "Yup gotta love THAT bureaucracy." **  
**

 **. . . . .**

 ** **Long Beach Power Plant****

Callen drove up to the gate of a chain link fence. No trespassing signs were posted all over, in English and Spanish. A chain and padlock barred entrance from the gate. Callen killed the engine in the car.

"Only one way in," Sam observed.

"Only one way out," Callen amended Sam's observation.

"They'll spot us coming in," Sam declared.

"They'll hear us too," Kensi added.

Callen took out his phone and hit the speed-dial button for Ops.

"Eric," was the response.

"You have any luck yet, Eric," Callen asked.

"I found two cameras, both external. Parking lot has three cars in it. No people outside." Eric reported.

"You find out anything about the cars?" Callen continued.

"Still working on it. Cameras are early models, limited zoom. I had to use some intense enhancement. Two of the cars were rented by Lazik, our Serbian friend. I have the registration of the third one running now. Just a minute and the driver's license should be available. Oh, shit." Eric went silent.

"Talk to me, Eric. What's wrong?" Callen asked, worried about what he found.

"That car is registered to Dale John Sully... That's Deeks' alias, Callen." Eric said as he looked at the fake driver's license that he made to help backstop the detective.

"Thanks, Eric," Callen said as he hung up the phone.

He turned to the other two agents and informed them, "Deeks is in there." All three of them knew how dangerous that was for their friend.

"If his cover is blown and Lazik knows he's a cop..." Sam didn't want to end that thought.

Kensi stated the obvious, "We need a plan."

Callen agreed with her, "And it needs to be quick."

Sam thought about it for a little bit, then reached back and pulled out a small Kleenex box. He showed it to the others as he asked, "Anybody got any duct tape?"

Callen smiled slyly at him, already knowing where he was going with it

 ** **. . . . .****

 ** **Long Beach Power Plant****

"Don't move," Deeks was told as he stood with his arms spread out wide while a man patted him down for weapons. A second guard stood a few feet away, watching the pat-down.

Lazik was speaking on his cell phone in Serbian. "Ne , stvari nisu onako kako sam želeo." [No, things did not go the way I wanted.]

The man with Deeks told him to turn around.

Lazik continued his phone conversation, "Zatvaram sve dole . U tri sata ja odem . Sutra sam kući . hmm ?" [I'm closing everything down. In three hours I leave. Tomorrow I'm home. Hmm?]

The guard tells Lazik, "He's not carrying anything."

"Želiš da , sve je u redu ," [You want that, it's all right.] Lazik switched to English, "Okay, I also love you. Ciao." He blew a kiss to the person on the phone, just before he ended the call.

Lazik walked toward Deeks and apologized, "Sorry, That was my wife."

Deeks looked away for a minute.

Lazik got defensive at that. "What? Are you amazed I have wife?"

"Everybody needs somebody, no?" Deeks replied, sadly remembering the woman that he had needed, whom he would never see again.

"She wants to meet me in Paris, now that I leave here early. I am good husband. You are brave man to come and see me."

"I know Emilio blew it. But you can't blame me. I had nothing to do with that," Deeks defended himself.

"Emilio did not tell me the truth!" Lazik snarled.

"Okay, he lied," Deeks agreed.

"He did not tell me he had contact in LAPD. So for poor judgment, he had to pay price. Because of him, four months' time, lots of money, is wasted," Lazik complained.

"I can fix that," Deeks countered. "I came here to show you. Let me take things over, and nothing is wasted."

Lazik turned toward his men. "Hear that?" he said with a sneer. "He wants business proposition." The men took their cue from their boss and gave a soft chuckle.

"Look, I can do it," Deeks pleaded. I helped Emilio set up all those safe houses. I know who you have to pay off at the border to smuggle something across."

"And for that reason...Keep on going," Lazik urged him on.

"All I want is for you to let me do one shipment, okay?" Deeks begged. "Just a single shipment. You can shut it down if I screw up. Then you lose nothing. But if I can make it work, then you and I can stay in business. The money and the time then won't be wasted at all."

Lazik thought about it a moment. "You present compelling argument," he said.

"I hope so," Deeks answered. "So, we're gonna do it?"

"I'm afraid not. It won't work," Lazik continued.

"It will. It will work. Give me a chance. I'll make it work."

"Pity," Lazik uttered sadly. "Working with you would have been much more appealing than Emilio."

"You can still do this," Deeks maintained.

"No, I can't...Mr. Deeks," Lazik concluded. "Pardonnez-moi...that should be Detective Deeks, of the LAPD, correct?"

The two guards had their weapons out, ready to fire. Both were behind him and were aiming to put a bullet in his back.

"It's such a letdown," Lazik continued. "My wife would have derived such pleasure from you."

Lazik walked off and the two guards drew closer to the detective. Deeks spun around, looking for a possible way out. There was none. He knew that he was not going to get out of this one alive.

 **. . . . .**

Callen opened the gate so he could drive in. Before he entered, he used his phone to check in with the others.

"You online, Kensi?" he asked. She had the furthest to go to her place of deployment.

From her elevated vantage point, she reported in, "Online, in position."

Callen next touched base with Sam. He and his partner had been doing this for years. One and two-word responses were all that were needed. "Sam?"

The big man answered him, "Set." Then he added "Go."

Callen got into his car and drove up to the parking lot.

. . . . .

Inside the building, both of the guards were taking turns beating Deeks to a pulp. The detective was reeling from the blows to his face, his chest, his stomach, blurting out in pain, each time another fist connected with his body. The concrete pillar behind him was the only thing that was holding him up. Lazik was standing off to the side, watching the punishment Deeks was taking.

Finally, the Serbian shouted out to the guards, "Dovoljno," [Enough,], and both of them stopped their attacks.

Deeks was still moaning in pain, then a cough wracked his body as he tried to breathe normally.

Lazik had slowly walked up to him and grabbed his arm, helping him stand upright as Deeks continued to pant, trying to draw the deep breath his body needed.

The Serbian explained to the younger man, "You know, you don't have to put up with all this?"

"All right," Deeks replied. "I'm just gonna leave, then," as he started to step away from the man standing in front of him.

One of the guards stepped up and roughly pushed Deeks back up against the concrete pillar.

Lazik then grabbed the lapels of the detective's jacket before he drove his knee into Deeks' groin.

Deeks responded by bending over and letting out an ongoing groan of pain.

The Serbian used his grip to lift the detective up, stretching his groin and increasing his pain. He continued to interrogate the detective, "How high does this investigation go? You need to tell me. Is Interpol involved? Anyone in Europe? Or Serbia?"

Deeks has his eyes closed in pain, still trying hard to breathe. He answered the man's question, "It goes all the way into your bedroom, Popov," likening his abuser to the famous Russian clown with the Moscow Circus.

Understanding the reference, Lazik griped Deeks' throat, forcing his head back against the pillar. His face contorted into an evil grimace as he put more and more pressure on the Detective's neck, stretching it to its limit. All Deeks could do was groan in pain and try to get his breathing back under control.

Lazik continues to put pressure on Deeks' throat, He leaned in closer to the younger man and continued to rant against him. "You think I not know about you? I found out about you long time before. Emilio, I found out he make payoff to someone in your office. He used my money. Mine!" His voice echoed throughout the structure as Lazik stretched Deeks' neck even further to emphasize his point.

Deeks could only breathe out his answer, "That's...too bad."

 **. . . . .**

The sound of an engine revving outside echoed past the group. One of the guards spoke to his boss, " Radovan... čujem nešto " [Radovan...I hear something.]

Lazik shouted out " Idi vidi šta je to " [Go, see what it is]

The guard ran off to see who had driven up.

. . . . .

Lazik turned back to Deeks. "I needed to know just how high this went. I had Emilio followed."

He pulled out his phone and searched for a picture. Finding it, he showed it to Deeks. It was Traynor. "You know her?" he asked.

"Nope. I never met her." Deeks confessed.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure of that. I'd remember a stone fox like her," Deeks said as he spit out some blood, landing it on Lazik's shoes.

Lazik brought up another picture on his phone and showed it to Deeks. It showed him walking outside of Detective Traynor's apartment. Again he started to taunt the detective. "You fond of her? You desire dirty cop? She dirty in bed for you?"

Something snapped in the detective's mind. Max Gentry knew that Marty Deeks would crack under such a scornful reproach. Deeks' love for Jess was too fragile and his pain over her death was too fresh for him to hold up under the abuse that Lazik would heap upon him. Max snuck out of that chamber in the mind where Marty had sealed him off, and gently placed the fragile psyche of Marty behind those doors. Max knew he was better able to deal with Lazik. He was a survivor. He would protect Marty in ways the detective could never imagine.

Max looked and weighed the odds against him. Three to one. Okay, he faced larger numbers before. He tried to hit Lazik, but one of the guards stepped in to help his boss again. Lazik didn't care about hitting a man when he was down, verbally or physically. If it added to the pain he was inflicting, he was all for it. He looked at his captive and snarled, "So, maybe Emilio didn't have to spend too much on paying her." With an insincere smile on his face, he hit Max one more time, a blow that Marty probably would not have survived. Max slowly slid down the column toward the ground.

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	9. Chapter 9

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 **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?**

 **A/N: This is the second chapter that draws heavily (some might say excessively) from season 2 Episode 1 'Human Traffic'. I did add my own explanations with a substitute understanding of the facts why the scene played out the way it did. We need to get Deeks through the mission so he can deal with his emotions and the rest of the team.**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS:LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-6. I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

 **=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 **Long Beach Power Plant**

Callen stopped his car near the entrance to the plant and got out. One of the guards stood in his way and announced, "You can't come in here."

Callen looked at him and started playing his part, "Relax. It's cool. I have an urgent delivery from Tommy Bishop for Mr. Lazik, He's one of Tommy's best customers that's why the special service."

He turned around and took out what appeared to be a brick of cocaine from his car. It was amazing what Sam had done with a cardboard box and duct tape. The guard searched Callen and took control of his weapon.

Indicating with his chin the direction he wanted Callen to go, he ordered him, "Move."

They entered the plant and made their way toward Lazik. Sam was hiding in the shadows, watching them. As soon as they went through the door he got closer to backup his partner.

When Callen and the guard entered the long corridor, Lazik looked at him and asked, "Who are you? Why are you here?"

Callen looked at him and said, "I suspect that you are Mr. Lazik," and pronounced it 'Lay-sick.'

He was corrected immediately as the Serbian pronounced it 'Lah-zitch'.

Max was still in control of Deeks' body and was kneeling on the ground, hands on his knees, trying to think of a way to prevent his own execution. He heard Callen's voice and looked at him, wondering why the man was there.

Callen continued, "Yeah, whatever. Tommy had a chance to buy some product. Wondered if you wanted in on a business deal."

Lazik answered him simply, "No."

Lazik signaled with his hand for one of the guards to take the package.

Callen turned around and faced the guard, backing up as he drew closer. Callen wasn't looking at the guard's face, and the man started to wonder about it. He looked down where Callen's gaze was focused, and saw the red dot of a spotting laser on his leg.

The man looked up to see where the shooter was. But just then there was the sound of a rifle discharge as Kensi took the shot from above. Her bullet hit the guard and he fell down moaning. She packed up her sniper's rifle and made her way down from her overwatch position to back up the members of the team.

Lazik's other guard looked up for the shooter, trying to find Kensi up on the catwalk. Lazik had run to find some protection for himself.

Max rolled over trying to keep out of the way of the bullets, but also making sure he did not lose sight of Lazik. Callen grabbed his gun from the wounded guard and started shooting, taking out the second guard.

Sam entered the long corridor and made the standard announcement, "Everyone, stay where you are. Federal Agents. Show me your hands."

Lazik had a clear shot at Sam until Max jumped up and grabbed his arm. He wrestled with the man up to the moment the Serbian pushed him away and ran behind a column. Sam fired several shots at him, but all they did was chip the concrete columns. Max was hunkered down behind a different column.

Callen yelled out "Deeks"? trying to find out how bad the detective was hurt and if he needed someone from the team to assist him.

Max responded in Marty's voice, "I'm okay," and started to draw on all the back-alley skills he had at his disposal to win this fight to the death. As the gunfire continued, he saw a weapon near him. Picking it up, he prepared to join the battle.

All this time Lazik had been shouting to his other men in Serbian, directing them to protect him as he tried to find some way to escape. Since the exits on the main level were blocked by federal agents, perhaps there might be some way out through the lower levels. The Serbian tried to sneak away downstairs, but Callen saw him and followed him.

One of Lazik's other guards had the same idea to try to get away from Sam. But Sam saw him on the stairs and they literally engaged in a running gun battle.

For a brief moment, everything was quiet on the main level. Marty Deeks used the silence to slip out of that walled off space of his mind and put Max Gentry back under wraps. Max protested, as usual, but Marty convinced him that there was no need for the brutal, cold-blooded entity to remain in charge. Mentally kicking and screaming, Marty locked him away and breathed a great sigh of relief. Knowing that the team had come to rescue him, Deeks followed them all down to the lower level, to see how he could help.

. . . . .

The lower level was quiet too. Both Sam and Callen were silently stalking the men they were following. As they cleared each area, they descended further and further into the bowels of the building.

Sam spotted the guard ahead of Callen trying to set up an ambush, but he didn't have a clear shot. He nodded to his partner, indicating where the man was hiding. Callen dropped out of cover and fired, hitting the guard and killing him.

Sam heard a noise behind him, spun around and fired at Lazik, dropping him to the ground, moaning as he died.

The two agents approached each other and breathed a sigh of relief. A look of amazement came over both their faces that this fly by night plan they dreamed up had worked so well

Deeks appeared around the corner, and just about shot Sam. He gave off a soft chuckle and told both agents, "If you guys would have given me just a couple more minutes, I think I could have taken every last one of them."

Sam shook his head in disbelief. He looked at the man standing before him, all torn up, and smiled as he said, "Hey, Deeks. It's good to see you, man."

Thinking back to how hopeless he felt a few short minutes before, he smiled and said, "Sam, it's good to see you, too."

. . . . .

Kensi arrived from her overwatch position and started down the stairs. When she heard nothing, she called out to get a update from the two agents, "Callen"..."Sam?"

Sam yelled back to her, "It's clear, Kensi," and she hurried to join them.

As she came closer, Deeks looked at her and said with a smile, "I told you I'd come back." Kensi didn't even want to concede that point to him, so she looked at him and said, "Just shut up."

In a more serious tone, Deeks informed the agents, "Emilio had a dirty cop in his pocket. Lazik found out about it and was not pleased." Kensi looked at him, the sadness evident on her face. "We know," she said. "It was Traynor."

Deeks just looked at her with a sad smile, and knew that he would have a lot of explaining to do to the team to correct their view of Jess.

. . . . .

 **Parking Lot, Long Beach Power Plant  
**

Deeks was sitting in his car, waiting. Detective Scarli drove up and parked a few spaces away. He got out of his car and walked up came up to the passenger side of Deeks' car and got it. He took off his sunglasses, and looked at the younger man, not knowing what to make of him.

"Deeks," he finally greeted him, wondering why he still was alive.

Deeks pointed at the cup of coffee up on his dash, "Did I remember right, Frank, black with two sugars?"

Scarli nodded, surprised that the young man remembered. He reached for the cup of coffee, as he looked at Deeks and said, "I'm happy you made it, kid."

Deeks looked at him and confessed, "Well, I just about didn't." Then he slid back in the seat, closed his eyes, and let his head flop back, and asked, "So what should I do?"

Scarli was confused and asked him, "About what?"

Deeks shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, "Traynor. I know Internal Affairs is gonna question me about her."

"Just tell the truth, Deeks," Scarli told him. "That way you can't get hurt. They can't ask her anything because she's dead." The older man brought the disposable cup to his lips and drank about half of the coffee in it.

"You're right," Deeks whispered. He half closed his eyes as he thought about how alive she was with him, before her life was snuffed out. "I trusted her completely," he recalled how true those words were.

Scarli looked at him and lied through his teeth, "All of us trusted her."

Deeks nodded almost imperceptibly and let out the breath that he had been holding. "Traynor once told me a story about her childhood."

He pulled down the visor and took out a photo of two young, smiling girls and handed it to Scarli.

"She pulled out this picture and let me see it. She's the one on the left. The older one is her cousin Christina. One night, they were walking home from watching a movie. It was dark out, and a van pulled up alongside them. Two guys jumped out and tried to kidnap the girls. Traynor got away from the guy who tried to carry her off in the van. Christina...She was not as fortunate. She was thrown into the van."

Deeks had to hold in the tears that were forming as he remembered Jess telling him this story. Scarli is holding the photo, looking from it to Deeks, and nodding as he relates his story.

"Eighteen months later...they found her body, just outside Reynosa, Mexico. Human traffickers had sold her to make her a child prostitute. So...Frank. You tell me, with that kind of history, why would Traynor be hooked up with a slime bucket like Emilio Ortega? Hmm? When I remembered the story she told me, I recognized right away that she wasn't. Frank...she was just trying to find out who it was that Emilio was paying off. I was out there trying to stop Lazik while she was trying to get Emilio to trust her enough to find out who Emilio had in his pocket."

He turned and looked at Scarli as he continued, "And that was you."

Scarli had drawn his weapon and chambered a round. He pointed it at Deeks, threatening to use it.

"You know, If Lazik hadn't taken both of them out, I would have done it." As he now realized what he had to do with the detective next to him, he added, "Deeks, I'm sorry about this."

Deeks' eyes no longer could hold back the tears, when he considered how cheaply he had counted Jess' life. "No," he whispered. "You're not sorry at all."

As Sam appeared at Scarli's side window with his gun pointed at the older detective, he ordered him, "Lower your weapon."

Deeks grabbed Scarli's weapon from him and got out of the car to face Kensi and Callen. Sam opened the door and pulled Scarli out of the car. When he was out, Sam spun him around and pulled his arms behind him and snapped a pair of handcuffs on him.

Deeks walked around the back of the car and went up to Callen asking him, "Did you get it all?"

Callen smiled at him and said, "Every last word."

As Sam tightened up the cuffs and turned him around to face them all, Scarli looked at Deeks and said in a despicable tone, intending only to hurt him, "So, Deeks...How was she in bed? Come on, tell us."

Deeks heard the older detective, but so did Max. With a burst of energy, he broke through those barriers that Deeks had set up. They were not as strong as they normally were because Deeks didn't have the time after the gun battle to make sure Max was firmly locked in.

It was now Max who had taken over. "What did you ask me?" he said the words slowly, emphasizing each and every one. "Ask me again," he demanded, as he raised the gun he had taken from Scarli and aimed it at older detective's heart, pushing the gun hard into his chest. "Ask...me...again!"

Callen was shocked at what was going on with Deeks. He realized that the detective must have had some strong feelings for the woman and that Scarli was just trying to goad him into doing something stupid. Callen couldn't allow that to happen to one of his team. He tried reasoning with him, "Deeks, don't do it. The man's not worth it."

But Max was not listening to anyone. Scarli had hurt him. Well, it was actually Deeks who had been hurt, but Max knew that Deeks was his 'softer' side. And Max would make Scarli pay for what he did.

"Ask me again," he growled, breathing extremely heavily. He continued to stare down the older detective.

"ASK ME AGAIN," Max shouted at him. But Scarli stood his ground, silent, his gaze boring into the eyes of the madman.

Kensi was so confused. This was not the man that Hetty chose as her partner. This man she did not recognize. Deeks' soft blue eyes that looked deep and blue as the ocean, had become hard and brittle, like ice that was entering the black shadows of arctic night. His voice was not gentle and soothing, but rather bitter and cruel. This was a man that even she feared.

Slowly she approached him and spoke softly to him, "Deeks, Deeks, put it down."

Max hesitated, but finally lowered the gun when Kensi whispered Deeks' name once more. Sam pulled his arm down, but Max shrugged off the help of the big agent. He cleared the chamber and listened to the shell bounce around before finally coming to a rest on the ground, never taking his eyes off Scarli. Sam grabbed the gun away from him. Max turned and looked at Sam, who nodded his approval at what he had done. Then he turned around and buried his fist into Scarli's chin as hard as he could with a roundhouse right. Max continued his punishment of the other detective, treating him like a punching bag, as his left and right hands continued to land in succession in Scarli's belly. Groaning in pain, Scarli started to crumble to the ground. Callen stopped Max from pounding away on Scarli, pulling him away from the older man and steering him off to the side. When it appeared that the younger detective was somewhat calmed down, Callen turned him over to Kensi.

Scarli fought to catch his breath and keep from falling. After a few seconds he protested, "You all saw that... You saw what he did."

Callen's face transformed into a 'who, me?' look as he answered the detective, "Me? I didn't see anything. Did you see something, Sam?"

"Nope, not a thing, G."

Scarli knew that there was nothing he could do. He just stood there, glaring evilly at the younger man.

Max stood there a moment and looked at the three agents who had no clue of who he was. He knew that he couldn't stay and that Marty would have to become the dominate personality again. He hated to be locked up in Marty's mind but knew that there was nothing to control him. Right now he would go back into that small area of Marty's consciousness. But he would gather his strength. Sooner or later he would get out again, and maybe one day, he would be the dominate personality. He slowly walked away from the group, seeking a place where he could sort everything out in his mind.

As he walked away, Kensi followed him with her eyes. She was very concerned about who and what this man, Marty Deeks, really was.

 **=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**


	10. Chapter 10

**=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS:LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-5 (but I do have season 6 on order). I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

 **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead**

 **Chapter 10**

 **Ops, Mission Headquarters || September 29, 2010**

Finally, the case was over. Deeks still had a lot of things to wrap up before he could consider it done. The first thing he had to do was Hetty's paperwork, then the paperwork he had to turn in to Lieutenant Bates at LAPD. Hetty's wasn't that hard to do. He became just like a robot, busy typing to answer all the questions, offering a short explanation on his part in the operation.

The after mission report for Bates was a different story. He sat staring at it for almost an hour, wondering what he could put down that would adequately express what had happened. The plain truth was that his partner had been killed, and he wasn't there to try to stop it. But Jess wasn't just his partner. She was the one with whom he could have spent the rest of his life. She was dead, and it was his fault. Deeks didn't even remember what he put down in the report. There were words on the page so he threw it onto Bates' desk and walked back out of the South Bureau Police Building without saying a word to anyone else.

When he got back to his apartment, he put in a call to Captain Murray, Jess' former boss in Chicago.

"Captain Murray? I'm Detective Marty Deeks, LAPD. I'm calling on behalf of Jess Traynor, I'm sorry, I mean Karen Hendricks. It's just so hard for me to call her that. I always just knew her as Jess."

"Karen once called me and said that she had been partnered with you. How is she doing out in the land of sun and fun?"

"Sir, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but Jess was killed on the last mission we were teamed up on. Her car was blown up just as she got in. She died instantly. I'm sorry, sir. I was undercover and wasn't able to prevent it." Deeks struggled hard to keep the tears from falling.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Detective. Karen told me that she thought the two of you could become more than just partners on the job. She thought a lot about you and knew she had found someone who was very important in her life."

"I should have been with her, though. I could have done something. She should be the one who is still walking around, not me."

"Detective, you were doing your job, just like I imagine that Karen was doing. You can't blame yourself for what someone else did to her."

"Well, all I can do for her now is to bring her home. She said you knew a judge that had her declared dead and someone else buried in her place. I was wondering if you could get that judge to order that body to be exhumed so that I could bury her with the rest of her family?"

"I'm sure that we can arrange that, Detective Deeks. When would you like the grave site to be available?"

"Whenever it is convenient for you. I just want to accompany the body to Chicago and stay for whatever service that can be set up for her."

"Of course, I understand."

"One other thing, sir. I know she was so proud of her police service. There won't be any viewing because she was burned so extensively. But I was wondering, would it be against any protocols if I have her clothed in her uniform for her interment? I just feel that would be something that she would want."

"No, Detective. Go right ahead."

"Thank you, sir."

"Detective, can I reach you at this number? I will give you a call when we have everything set up here."

"Yeah. This is my personal cell. If I don't answer, just leave a message and I will get back to you.

With that, Deeks hung up the phone and steeled himself to go over to Jess' apartment and make a final disposition of her things.

. . . . .

 **Traynor's Apartment, Harbor City, CA || September 29, 2010**

Deeks had already decided that all of Jess' clothing would be donated to the woman's shelter where he still did pro-bono work. All of the personal pictures and her jewelry he would take with him and decide how to dispose of them later. He had already talked to the apartment manager and worked it out with him that the place would be rented out as a furnished apartment, so all the furniture and dishes would stay. After loading up all of the clothing into plastic bags and carrying them down to his car, he cleaned out the refrigerator and freezer, took all of the groceries from the cupboards and bagged up the trash.

He suddenly realized that he had to do the same thing in the bathroom. After cleaning out the medicine cabinet, tub area and underneath the sink, he grabbed the wastebasket to get rid of the trash in it. A brightly colored box caught his attention. It was a home pregnancy kit. He pawed through the rest of the trash looking for the test strips that it had contained. There were supposed to be three of them. He found two. They both were positive. He realized that must have been what she wanted to talk to him about that day. She must have brought the third test strip with her to show him.

Deeks was not ready for the gut-wrenching pain that went along with the realization of what that actually meant. **HE** was the father. She was carrying HIS unborn child when she was murdered.

His legs gave way and he sunk down to the floor, screaming just one word over and over and over again, "NO! NO! NO! Finally he ran out of breath to scream, and just lay there on the floor crying. His whole world revolved around those two positive strips of the pregnancy test, and the fact that not just Jess' life was taken from him, but also the life of the child that they would have had together was gone forever.

He never heard the police officers pound on the apartment door. He only noticed them when they came in the bathroom and found him, drowning in his tears on the floor.

"Are you all right, sir? The manager called us and said that there was a disturbance here in this apartment."

Deeks mumbled something in reply, but neither of the officers could understand him.

One of them reached down to help him up so he could sit on the edge of the tub. As he did so, he felt the weapon that Deeks had tucked in the back of his pants. The officer pulled back and drew his own weapon and pointed it at Deeks, telling him, "Sir, please raise your hands."

That seemed to bring the detective back to reality. He raised his hands and told the officer, "If you look in my right-hand pants pocket, you will find my credentials. I am Detective Marty Deeks of South Bureau, LAPD. This is the apartment of my former partner. She was murdered on our last undercover assignment."

The policeman looked at his partner, who checked Deeks' documentation. "That's what his ID says. Is there anything we can do to help you, Detective?"

"No," Deeks responded. "I just found something out about my partner that I never knew, and it's gonna take me a long time to deal with it. Thank you anyway, officers."

"Okay, we'll go back on patrol. Just call in if you need any help." Both officers turned and left the apartment.

Deeks took a towel and soaked it in cold water, wrang it out and placed it on the back of his neck. He used the ends of it to wipe his face and try to remove the tear stains there. He knew the scars of those tears would always be there for him, no matter how hard he tried to wash them away.

 **Deeks' Apartment, Long Beach || September 29, 2010**

The Detective returned home and called Lieutenant Bates. He found out that Jess' body was still being held as evidence by the Los Angeles County Coroner. He put in a call to the office.

"Coroner's office, this is Dr. Rose Schwartz."

"Dr. Schwartz, this is Detective Marty Deeks, LAPD. I'm calling about the body of another Detective, Jess Traynor. I am wondering when the body will be released.""

"Just a moment, Detective. Let me check my records." After a minute, she came back again, "Detective, as far as I can see, most of the tests have all been done and recorded. We just have to make sure that all the pictures have been developed, and the final report is written. That can probably be done by the end of the day."

"As far as I know, she has no family here in the area. I was her partner and the closest thing she had to a friend here in Los Angeles. I would like to take her body home to Chicago and have her buried beside her family there."

"Is there any funeral home you would like for me to send the body, that they may make arrangements for transport?"

"I never even thought of that. I wonder if Hetty would know if I could tag along on a military flight and have her transported that way."

"Wait a minute, Detective. Do you mean Henrietta Lange?"

"Yeah, I sorta work for her when I'm not working full-time for the LAPD."

"I am sorta dating Dr. Nate Getz, their operational psychologist, and I've done a lot of work for Hetty. If you want, I will contact her for you and arrange everything."

"I've met Doc Getz. He's a good man. Anyway, I have her police uniform and I wonder if she could be dressed in it before the coffin is closed for the last time. And I know she doesn't look very pretty now because of the severity of her burns. But could you ask someone to make her look as good as possible. She always had a bright smile and a twinkle in her eye."

Dr. Schwartz heard the pain that was behind those words and assured the detective, "Everything that you want and need to be done will be carried out as respectfully as possible. Bring the uniform over this afternoon and I personally will take care of it."

Before he took the uniform over to the Coroner's office, Deeks slipped one of the pregnancy test strips in her left shirt pocket, so it would forever lie close to her heart.

. . . . .

 **The Mission, Los Angeles || September 30, 2010**

When he came in the next morning, Hetty called the Detective into her office.

"Mr. Deeks, tomorrow morning at 8:27 AM, you present yourself at the freight terminal of United Airlines at LAX. You will wait there until Detective Traynor's body is loaded on the plane. You will escort the body of Detective Traynor to Chicago, where you will be met by members of the Chicago Police Department, and accompany the body to the cemetery for burial."

"What's the flight number, Hetty? I will need to buy my ticket," he said.

"Everything here and in Chicago has already been arranged. All you have to do is show up," the tiny woman said. "I know that you are the closest thing to family that she has. Please accept my condolences and that of the rest of the staff here. We are sorry for your loss."

. . . . .

 **LAX || November 1, 2010**

The following morning, eight uniformed Los Angeles police officers stood near a wheeled cart that had a long box on it. Hetty and her three agents stood off to the side looking on. A hearse drove up and six of the officers went to the back, opened the door and pulled out the casket. These officer pall bearers transferred the casket from the hearse to the airtray on the cart. Then they saluted the officer and marched off toward the terminal.

The two remaining officers saluted the coffin, as two airport ground employees reverently put the top of the airtray on and secured it. Even from the distance, the three agents could see it was marked several places with signs that said, 'FRAGILE' and 'HUMAN REMAINS'.

Sam looked around and loudly whispered to Callen, "You would think that Deeks could have managed to be here. His partner is just about to be loaded into the plane, and where is he?"

Hetty turned toward him and gave him her gorgon stare as she said softly, "Oh he is here, Mr. Hanna. Just watch."

An airport tractor had driven up. One of the ground employees went and took a manila envelope with all the paperwork from the tractor and gave it to the older officer, then went back and sat in the tractor. The second ground employee was busy hooking the cart to the tractor, then sat down on the side of the cart to make sure its precious contents didn't slip. The tractor and cart headed off in the direction of the planes.

The two officers turned toward each other and saluted. The older one extended his hand, then used the handshake to draw the younger man into a hug. They parted and the older man handed the manila envelope to the younger, saying something that no one else could hear.

The younger man quickly walked toward Hetty and her agents. It was only when he got closer that they could recognize him. It was Deeks, but in a form that they had never seen before. He was clean shaven. His hair was closely trimmed and fit under his hat without any stray wisps hanging out. The creases on his uniform were sharp enough to shave by. But what truly surprised them, was all of the department decoration ribbons on his chest indicating the medals, awards, and decorations that he had earned. Sam looked at these and wondered if the LAPD gave them out like candy. If not, then he needed to take another look at this police detective that Hetty had saddled them with. Deeks had as many decorations, if not more, as he did from his SEAL days.

Deeks went up to Hetty and looked at her with gratitude in his eyes. "I don't know what to say, Hetty. 'Thank you' seems just so inadequate."

The little lady looked up at him and said kindly, "Don't worry about it, Mr. Deeks. We can talk about it when you get home. Right now I believe you have a plane to catch."

Deeks quickly headed off toward the terminal, leaving the rest of them to wonder if the man they saw standing there a few minutes ago was real.

 **=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**


	11. Chapter 11

**=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS:LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-6. I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

 **A/N: All of my stories will be on temporary hiatus until further notice. I need to have some medical procedures taken care of. When they have been successfully completed, I will again continue to post new chapters. I am sorry if this disappoints people, but I have to take care of me so I can continue to write.**

 **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead**

 **Chapter 11**

 **Chicago || November 1, 2010**

The flight to Chicago was uneventful, and Deeks even managed to sleep for a short time. He slept without dreaming, for which he was extremely grateful.

When he got off the plane in Chicago, one of the ground crew members was waiting for him.

"Detective Martin Deeks?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Please come with me, sir," and he turned and led Deeks through a doorway and down onto the ground. Another one of those tractors was there waiting for him. The man who led him there turned to him and said, "Sir, don't worry. Your luggage will be offloaded and driven out to you. There is nothing you have to do; it is already being taken care of."

"Thank you," Deeks said as he got into the tractor.

The Detective was driven to an area close to the plane that brought him and Jess from Los Angeles. There was a small squad of police officers, standing in their ranks, Captain Murray standing apart at the head of the group. A hearse had its back door open, waiting to receive the coffin near the end of the beltway used to unload the luggage. Six policemen acting as pall bearers were waiting to transfer the coffin into the hearse.

The tractor stopped short of this whole scene. The driver leaned over and told the Detective, "Sir, Captain Murray has asked that you join him near the belt-loader, to receive the body of your fallen comrade."

Deeks hopped out and went over to introduce himself to the Captain. The two of them turned, and the short ceremony began. The airtray was placed on the belt-loader and slowly descended to the ground. It was stopped short of the end, and two airport employees lifted the cover off the airtray. All six pall bearers smartly stepped up, picked up the coffin and placed it gently into the hearse.

Captain Murray and Deeks held their salute as the body was transferred. Then the Captain escorted the LA Detective to his car for the ride to Mount Olive Cemetery.

The ride to the cemetery was generally quiet. Captain Murray did inform the detective that an American Flag would be draped over the coffin. At the end of the committal service, it would be taken off and presented to the next of kin.

He turned to Deeks and told him, "That would be you, Detective."

"Oh, no," Deeks answered him. "Maybe in a couple of years I would have been part of her family if we would have developed our relationship. Right now though, I am only here as her former partner."

"Then you don't want to receive the flag?" the Captain asked.

"I don't want it to become a problem, but no, I don't want to receive it. I just want to live with the memories that I have of her."

"Okay, we have an alternate plan for just such occasions. I will inform the honor guard before the service."

"One other thing," Deeks asked. I don't know if it is a long-established tradition to have a bagpiper play 'Amazing Grace' off in the distance. It seems that it is part of every police officer's graveside out in Los Angeles. I just don't like that song."

"It is customary for a piper to play off in the distance for police graveside services here, too. Usually, we ask the family members if there is any particular song or hymn that they want to be played. There is another traditional one that is played at a lot of funerals, 'Going Home'. It is a very solemn, dignified piece. I'm sure you will recognize it."

The younger man looked at the Captain and said to him. "If that is not a problem for what you have already planned, I would appreciate it."

"It won't be any problem at all. Whatever you want, we will try to make happen for you."

"Thank you, sir." Deeks said, feeling the sympathetic way everyone was dealing with him.

. . . . .

 **Mount Olive Cemetery, Chicago**

The funeral procession turned and proceeded to enter the gate of the cemetery. It looked like a section of a castle wall, with a gate, gate house, and tower. Deeks was surprised that when the hearse passed through the gate, a bell rang in the tower.

There was a long line of cars, both police cruisers, and regular automobiles, that were parked off on one of the side roads near the entrance. These all joined the procession as they wound their way through the cemetery to the place of interment.

When they stopped, Captain Murray called an officer over to him and spoke a few words. He immediately ran off toward the hearse, speaking to the color guard that had assembled there to place the flag on the coffin. When he was done there, he looked where the piper was going to play, went there, and informed him of the hymn that was selected.

Captain Murray escorted Deeks to the few chairs that were set up close to the grave. He introduced the detective to the Deputy Commissioner and the Chief of Detectives for the Chicago Police Department. The young man was utterly surprised that these men would take the time to attend a funeral of an officer who was no longer on the force. But they explained that Karen had been an excellent officer while she was part of the force, and it wasn't her fault that she had to transfer out. It would only be natural for them to honor her for the service she gave to the city.

Everyone rose as the pallbearers carried the flag-draped coffin over and set it on the lowering device. The men stepped back and the Catholic police chaplain stood at the head of the coffin. He motioned for those who were provided chairs to sit and then began the committal service.

After a few prayers and Scripture readings, the chaplain began his homily. For some reason, the words he offered struck a deep chord with the LA detective. He appreciated that the members of the Church community accepted responsibility to care for the burial site and would continue to remember Jess and all the dead in their prayers. The chaplain encouraged all of them to use works of mercy, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, serving the people of their community where they patrol, as ways to honor and remember their beloved comrade.

After blessing her body one final time and commending it to the earth, the chaplain stepped back, and the final part of the service began. The Deputy Commissioner stepped forward, asked those who were seated to rise, and then called everyone to attention. He read a list of accomplishments and commendations that Karen had earned with the Chicago Police Department. Deeks was proud of everything that she did. What did surprise him was that the Deputy Commissioner added her commendations from the Los Angeles Police Department as Jess Traynor. He was pleased that Lieutenant Bates and the other officials had awarded her the Medal of Valor and the Detective Service Ribbon for her work as a Detective in Chicago and Los Angeles, although he had a sneaky suspicion that Henrietta Lange had something to do with how quickly it was processed. The little ninja knew everyone, but more importantly, knew the crimes and misdemeanors of everyone. Knowledge like that helped when she needed to call in favors.

The Deputy Commissioner turned, faced the coffin, then issued the order, "Salute." As the officers held their salute, the bugler began to play 'Taps'. Once again Deeks thought how those twenty-four notes were the saddest song that had ever been written. The ranking officer turned to face the group and ordered them to form up, and then told them to stand at ease.

The three-volley salute caused Deeks to jump, even though he knew it was coming. In Chicago, they used a seven-man team, each man firing a shotgun with blanks. Three times they raised their weapons and discharged them. The custom went back to the wars in Europe where the fighting was stopped so the dead and wounded could be removed from the battlefield. Then three shots were fired into the air to signal that the battle could continue.

When it came time to remove the American flag that draped the coffin, two officers of the honor guard stepped up, lifted the flag, and prepared to fold it into the traditional triangular shape for presentation. Deeks looked at Captain Murray, certain that he remembered the conversation they had about this in the car. But he just looked at the Los Angeles detective and asked him if he knew the significance behind the thirteen folds of the flag. Deeks admitted that he did not.

As the two officers folded the flag, Captain Murray described the meaning behind each of the folds as his officers completed the task...

"The first fold is symbol of life; the second fold is a symbol of our belief in eternal life; the third is made in honor and remembrance of the veteran departing our ranks, and who gave a portion of his or her life for the defense of our city and country to maintain the peace we all desire."

"The fourth fold represents our weaker nature; as in times of peace, as well as in times of war, we seek out divine guidance; the fifth is a tribute to our country, in dealing with other countries, may she always be right, but it is still our country, right or wrong; the sixth is for where our hearts lie. It is with our heart that we pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."

"The seventh fold is a tribute to our armed forces, for it is through the armed forces that we protect our country and our flag against all enemies, whether they be found within or without the boundaries of our republic; the eighth is to honor our mother, for whom it flies on Mother's Day; the ninth is a tribute to womanhood, for it has been through their faith, love, loyalty and devotion that the character of the men and women who have made this country great have been molded."

"The tenth fold is a tribute to father, for he, too, has given his sons and daughters for the defense of our country since he or she was first born; the eleventh fold represents the lower portion of the seal of King Solomon and reminds us of the verse 'Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death' (Song of Solomon 8:6); the twelfth fold, represents an emblem of eternity."

"When the flag is completely folded, the stars are uppermost, reminding us of our national motto, 'In God We Trust.' When the last little bit of the flag is folded over and tucked in, it has the appearance of a cocked hat, always reminding us of the soldiers who served under Gen. George Washington and the sailors and Marines who served under Capt. John Paul Jones and were followed by their comrades and shipmates in the U.S. Armed Forces, preserving for us the rights, privileges and freedoms we enjoy today."

The officer with the flag had walked to the back of the squad, and presented it to the last man in line there. He, in turn, presented it to the officer on his left, and she did the same to the officer next to her. The flag traveled through the ranks, being presented to everyone present. Finally, it got to the last man on the front row.

He marched up to Deeks and presented it to him as he spoke, "Sir, receive this flag, as a token that you are a brother in this family here, and join us to honor our sister Karen, who paid the ultimate sacrifice."

Deeks was so moved by the ceremony and what was said to him, that all he could say was, "Thank you."

He then turned to Captain Murray and presented the flag to him, but found that the only words he could think of to say to accompany the action was, "You and your people honor me by including me in this ceremony. Take this, for your Karen and my Jess."

He had been with these people for a little more than an hour, and already they were accepting him as part of their family. How many years had he been in LA, and still he didn't feel as welcome there as he did here?

. . . . .

After the service was over, Deeks asked Captain Murray what would happen to the flag.

"We will put it in our 'heroes gallery' at the precinct, and in rotation with some of the others we have, it will be flown at the precinct on special occasions, the Fourth of July, Flag Day, the anniversary of the person's death. This way we continue to uphold our bond of faith with them as if they were still active members of the force."

Deeks looked at him and said, "That is truly an inspiring policy. So much better than just sitting on a shelf, forgotten in someone's home."

The Captain told him that was the way they usually got such flags when there was no family left for them to present them to. But he again said that Deeks qualified as Karen's family and he should have received the flag.

"No. Let it be the way it is. Jess would be so glad if she knew that she was still serving the people with her comrades."

After the two of them went back to the Captain's car, the senior officer asked him, "When do you have to go back to LA, and what do you plan on doing until then?"

"I am taking the red-eye back late tonight. I hadn't planned anything else for today. I just didn't know how long the service was going to be."

"I tell you what, why don't you come along with me and take a tour of the precinct. I'll treat you to the best steak that you have ever eaten, and then I'll make sure you are back at the airport in time for your flight."

Deeks looked at him and said, "I'd be a fool not to take you up on that offer. But could we stop at the cemetery office before we go? I would like to make arrangements for a new tombstone for Karen's grave."

"No problem."

At the office, Deeks arranged for a tombstone the same size and shape as the one that was on the grave now. He gave them the correct date of death to be engraved on it and asked for three more lines of information to be etched into the granite. In flowing script on a diagonal, the words 'Jess – I will always love you – Marty', would let the world know his feelings for this woman.

 **=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**


	12. Chapter 12

**=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS:LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-5 (but I do have season 6 on order). I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

 **A/N: All of my stories will be on temporary hiatus until further notice. I still need to have some medical procedures taken care of. Until they have been completed I have been told to spend limited time on the computer. The whole process may be done hopefully by mid-December. Until that time, I will post when I am able. When things have been successfully completed, I will again continue to post new chapters regularly. I am sorry if this disappoints people, but I have to take care of me so I can continue to write.**

 **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead**

 **Chapter 12**

 **Los Angeles ||** **November 1-2, 2010**

Deeks did not get any sleep on the red-eye back to Los Angeles. There was too much going on in his mind. He had to figure out some way to tell Lieutenant Bates that he didn't want to come in for a while. He most especially did not want to go undercover for the LAPD. He just felt so empty with all the emotional payment he had to make between Jess, Scarli, and his love for being a cop.

Then there was his relationship with the people at NCIS. They literally pulled his ass out of the fire. If Callen hadn't appeared at the power plant when he did, Lazik would have executed him right there. How do you pay back a man, a team, that you know little or nothing about, when you owe them your life? And yet the way that all of them treated him, he wondered if anything that he said or did would be accepted.

The trip was soon over and the plane was on the ground at LAX. Too soon for him, since he had not yet arrived at any decision. He caught a shuttle bus to the short-term parking lot where he had left his car. Tossing his bag in the seat alongside him, he turned the key in the ignition and started the drive home.

He could barely keep his eyes open by the time he reached his apartment. Crawling into bed, he was asleep immediately. And that was when the nightmares hit him. He was sitting in the car as Jess got in. The explosion occurred and he watched her body change from that of a living person to a piece of grotesque charcoal. And all the while the voice of his father is ringing in his ears with his psychotic laughter. Marty woke up screaming, tearing the blankets off his body, as he barely made it to the bathroom. Puking up whatever remained of the sandwich he ate before the flight home and flushing it down, he stayed kneeling there, watching the water swirl around in the bowl.

The voice of his father echoed through his brain. _Yeah, remember being in this position, boy? Lazik was ready to give you what you deserved. You said you would always have that woman's back, But where were you when she needed you to protect her? Sleeping on the job. How utterly worthless you are._

 _No_ , Marty tried to defend himself. _I didn't know. I was knocked out with drugs._

 _Right,_ he heard his father say with a laugh, _The old 'I'm not responsible, I was on drugs' defense. How often did you let that excuse go unchallenged when you were in the courtroom? Hmm?_

 _The explosion partially knocked me unconscious. A couple of Emilio's guards found me and threw me into their car. They took me down near the Hollywood Park Racetrack and brought me to a man they called 'Doc'. He didn't have a waiting room, but a big open area with a large table. There were pictures of horses all over the walls, a few of them taken at that track. As he shot me up with something in a syringe, one of the guards asked him if he was going to get his license back. He mentioned that he was banned for life, so he couldn't work. The next thing I remember was waking up in my undercover apartment, some fifteen hours later._

 _You still should have been there. You promised. You lied. You're even worse than I was. You just let someone else do your dirty work to hurt women instead of doing it yourself._

Marty fell to the floor and just started sobbing over and over again, "No. No. I am not like you are." he softly lamented. "I didn't hurt Jess. I loved her." Looking up toward the heavens, he shouted, "I am not your child!"

Sometime during the night sleep finally claimed him. He woke up the next morning, curled up on the bathroom floor, stiff and sore from laying there throughout the night.

 **. . . . .**

Deeks decided to call Hetty first the following morning. She picked up and answered gently, "Lange."

"Hetty, I'm requesting a few days off. I need to get my head on straight. Maybe, if I think about it hard enough, I can process through everything that had happened the past few days. Or was it the past few months, I just can't remember."

Hetty listened patiently to the mournful request from the detective. "Mr. Deeks, I will grant your request. I think it would be good for you to think through your actions. But I do not think you should do this alone. I will set up a session for you with the psychologist. You will be required to meet with him before I will clear you for duty."

"That's okay, Hetty. I will meet with the LAPD psychologist."

"Dr. Simpson is a has no idea of what he is doing. I wouldn't trust any recommendation that he would give to a goldfish, much less a human being."

"Okay, okay. Make an appointment for me. I'll meet with Nate like the others do."

"I'm sorry, Detective. Mr. Getz is no longer available. He is out on assignment"

"Just tell me where he is, Hetty. I'll go and meet with him to satisfy you."

"You don't seem to understand, Mr. Deeks. You cannot go there. He is at an undisclosed location. I have another doctor in mind. I have used him before. He is also very good."

"Okay. You win. Where do I go to meet with him."

"I will have Dr. Sandstarom contact you as to where and when you should meet. If there is nothing more, enjoy your time off," and with that Hetty ended the call.

 **. . . . .**

Deeks' second call was to Lieutenant Bates.

"Lieutenant, I have decided to take a few days off. I need to regroup. I'll let you know when I'm ready to come back."

"I don't know if I can let you do that, Deeks. I already have another request for you to go undercover. They want to start it in two days. What am I supposed to tell them?"

"Sir, I frankly don't care what you want to tell them. I'm just coming off a four-month undercover operation in which my partner was killed and they almost killed me a couple of times. I've got some medical leave time built up. I'll use that if I have to."

"That's fine, Deeks, just remember you need to bring a note from the doctor in order for me to authorize it."

Deeks shook his head at how Mickey Mouse this was turning out to be. He knew he should have ended the call right there and not say anything more, but he was always a pain in his boss' ass, and he saw no reason to change that impression today. "So, do I also have to bring you a note from my mommy telling you that I took all my naps and medicine when I was supposed to?" He spit out the words and then ended the call before Lieutenant Bates could answer him.

 **. . . . .**

His final call that morning was to Amelio's Surf Shop.

"Hey, Amelio, this is Marty."

"Hey, Marty, how are you doing? Still hitting the waves? I haven't seen you at the beach for a while."

"Ahh. That's what I need to talk to you about. You remember Jess, the gal that I brought in to get outfitted for surfing lessons?"

Yeah, I remember her...Aww, Marty. Don't tell me. She found a better teacher for her surf lessons? Or did you do something stupid, like throw her back and hope that you would find a better-looking fish in the sea?"

"Neither one, Amelio. She became a casualty in the ongoing war between good and evil."

"So, you just want to delay the lessons for a time? She's gonna be all right, isn't she?"

"No, Amelio. She won't need any more surf lessons, ever."

"God, Marty. I'm so sorry. Look, man, just bring whatever you wanna return over to the shop at any time you can. I won't charge you for any of it. We'll drink a beer together in her memory. Again, Marty, I'm so sorry for whatever happened."

"Thanks, man. I really appreciate it."

 **. . . . .**

 **Professional Building, Downtown Los Angeles ||** November 4, 2010

Dr. Sandstarom's office had called and set up an appointment with Deeks for two days later. At the appointed time, the detective found himself standing outside the office door, hesitating to go in.

 _Come on, Deeks, you can do this,_ he thought to himself.

 _You're not man enough to do it, boy. You know you'll have to tell him about me,_ his father's voice rang in his ears.

 _I know. I want him to know about you. Maybe he can help get you out of my mind and buried for good._

 _You know that ain't gonna ever happen, boy. I'll be here until the day you die._

Thinking about how close to death he had come a couple of times in the past two weeks, he grabbed the door handle, opened it, and went on in.

"Martin Deeks, I have an appointment with Dr. Sandstarom."

"Yes, Mr. Deeks. He's waiting for you. Go on in." the receptionist said, indicating a partially open door at the end of the outer office.

Deeks went into the indicated room. It looked like the typical psychologist's office, with a large imposing desk with a computer set up on the left-hand side near the windows along one wall. The left side of the room had a large leather couch with extra fabric throw pillows piled at one end, along with an upgraded, school lecture type, tablet arm chair; a small end table and table lamp casting a soft glow on the other. The right side of the room had four overstuffed chairs grouped in a loose circle. The last wall held the door in which Deeks was standing, with wall to wall built in bookshelves framing it.

The doctor rose from his desk and walked out to greet him. He was least in his sixties, slightly shorter than average, a bit pudgy, with very pale skin. His hair was straight, mid length, stylishly cut, and although it once must have been flaming red, had now gone very gray. The strong grip and somewhat broad build told Deeks that this man was an athlete earlier in his life, even though he now had gotten a bit pudgy. Deeks swore that his green eyes could easily pierce through every facade that he could offer and see through to his very soul.

"Mr. Deeks?" the doctor asked, as he drew his hand back after the customary handshake.

"That would be me."

"Do you want to sit down?"

"Where would you like me to sit?"

"Any place that you feel comfortable."

Marty chose one of the four chairs off on the right side of the room and slouched into it. Dr. Sandstarom sat directly across from him and began the session.

"Mr. Deeks, why do you think that Henrietta Lange sent you to me?"

"Nate, I mean, Dr. Getz was busy."

"No, I'm not asking why she sent you to this office. I mean the reason she felt you needed to see a psychologist."

"Maybe it was because I was almost blown up. Maybe it was because my partner was blown up and killed. Maybe it was because I got a little angry about it."

"That's a lot of maybes, Martin, or would you rather be called Marty?"

"Most people just call me Deeks."

"That's not very personal, is it?"

"I'm not really a personal kind of guy."

"Okay then, you work for NCIS and Hetty?"

"No. I work for the Los Angeles Police Department under Lieutenant Bates."

"I don't understand, then. Why did Hetty send you here?"

"I am the LAPD liaison with NCIS. I know that Hetty doesn't need me for that line of work, but she asked for me personally and I can't get out of it no matter how hard I try."

"Why would you want get out of it?"

"I'm proud to be a cop, that's what I am, not the cloak and dagger spy that Hetty wants me to be."

"Are you a regular patrol officer?"

"No. I am a detective. I do a lot of undercover work for the force."

"Undercover? So you become someone else?"

"I don't know if I would describe it like that."

"I just want to know, to see if it is you who are talking to me or if you have become someone else."

"I don't usually 'become' someone else, so it is me talking."

"But on occasion you do. How often, once, twice?"

Marty got up from the chair and started pacing. Dr. Sandstarom saw that he was getting agitated. But he just let the silence play out for him. Finally, Marty looked at him and said, "I can wear these characters like a suit of clothes, put them on and take them off whenever I like. But there is one that I can't, Max Gentry."

"Tell me about this character," the doctor requested.

"I don't know if he is a character. I think he is the darker part of me. I learned as a child who I would become from my mother. Max learned as a child who he would become from my father."

"What can you tell me about your dad?" Sandstarom pressed him to continue.

"My dad was a fine man until he lost his job. Then he became the meanest son of a bitch I have ever known. He beat my mother and me constantly but left my older sister alone. That lasted until I was eleven years old. Then he got drunk one night. He beat the crap out of my mom, then he went and raped my sister and killed her, right in front of me. Finally he came after me, shouting that I made him do all that to them and that he would kill me too. I ran to my room and found the gun a friend gave me to protect myself. I shot the bastard with it, but I didn't kill him. He was arrested and sent to jail. But he brokered a deal with the government for early release."

"So are you afraid that he might come back to punish you?"

"No. At least not physically. He's dead. But mentally he is always with me, telling me how worthless I am. I think he talks to Max while I sleep, teaching him how to be his son. Some nights my nightmares are so vivid. I keep seeing things that no one should see when I close my eyes."

For the rest of the hour, Dr. Sandstarom got Deeks to talk those nightmares as he delved deeper into the detective's relationship with his father and with Max Gentry. But it was far too much to deal with in just this one session. Close to the end of the session, the doctor gave the younger man a few different ways to try to cope with his terrifying dreams. Knowing that both Deeks and Hetty wanted to determine his fitness to return to work as soon as possible, the doctor set up a follow-up appointment for two days later.

Deeks felt somewhat better as he left the psychologist's office. If it would help him deal with his nightmares, the experience would well be worth it.

Doctor Sandstarom walked the detective to his office door. As soon as he saw the door close to his outer office, he returned to his desk and placed a call to Henrietta Lange.

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	13. Chapter 13

**=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS: LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-6. I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

 **A/N: All of my stories will be on temporary hiatus until further notice. I still need to have some medical procedures taken care of. Until they have been completed I have been told to spend limited time on the computer. The whole process may be done hopefully by the middle or end of December. Until that time, I will post when I am able. When things have been successfully completed, I will again continue to post new chapters regularly. I am sorry if this disappoints people, but I have to take care of me so I can continue to write.**

 **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead**

 **Chapter 13**

 ** **Office of Special Projects, Los Angeles || November 4, 2010****

Hetty picked up the phone on the second ring, "Lange."

"Hetty, Jonas Sandstarom."

"Hello, Jonas, how's your tennis elbow? I trust it's not keeping you off the court?"

"No, Hetty, I'm too old to really play. I dabble until I start to feel some twinges in my elbow, then I retire from the court. But you know that I am not calling about that."

"Ahh, yes. How is our Mr. Deeks?"

"You know I can't discuss specifics, but Mr. Deeks mentioned something in our session that I need to have clarified. I wonder if you would know the answer."

"The answer to what, Jonas?"

"He mentioned that in the last three years or so, he has gone undercover, lasting at least a week or longer, so often, that he does not even remember how many times it has been. He said that the detective division 'rents him out', his words, to other divisions when they need someone to go undercover. Could this actually be true?"

"Off the top of my head, I cannot tell you exactly how many times he has gone undercover, but I know that it has been often. That seems to be his main job with the Los Angeles Police Department. I can have someone look into it for you."

"Thank you, Hetty. I would appreciate it. It might shed some light on how I deal with Mr. Deeks."

"Anything else you need, Jonas?"

"No. Wait, you don't have any miracle cure for arthritis, do you? Then I could spend more time playing against those younger girls on the tennis courts."

"If I did, Jonas, I would be using it myself. I will get the answer for your question as quickly as possible."

"Thank you very much, Hetty. I'll call back if I need anything more."

Hetty waited until Eric came down from Ops to eat his lunch. She asked him if he could look into Deeks' record at the LAPD and find out how many times Deeks had gone undercover for them. Sam overheard that conversation and thought that he could get Eric to look into Deek's commendations at the same time. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Eric as soon as Hetty left.

Sam - Eric, need a favor

Eric – sure, whatcha need

Sam – when you find out Hetty's info on Deeks check his decorations and commendations for me

Eric – sure, problems with any

Sam – not yet, just wanna know about them

Eric – will do

Sam - thanks

 **. . . . .**

Later that afternoon, Eric had compiled the information that Hetty asked for. He reported to his boss that this last time with Jess Traynor was the eleventh time that he had gone undercover in the past five years for the LAPD. Those were only the ones that were extended undercovers, lasting more than a week. There were numerous times when there were shorter undercover operations, and, of course, there were the times that they did joint operations with the alphabet agencies that were not declassified yet and were not recorded.

Callen was there when he reported all this to Hetty. When Eric went back up to Ops, and Hetty poured herself another cup of tea, the head agent looked at the little ninja and shook his head. "Hetty, that is really a lot of undercover missions, especially since the LAPD does not back up its undercover agents even half as well as we do. He has to work twice as hard as us just to keep up the facade."

"What are you trying to say, Mr. Callen?"

"All I'm saying, Hetty, is that I did that for a short time when I first worked for the CIA. They gave me minimal help. It sure is a whole lot easier to do your job when you know that your story is completely backstopped, like ours usually are, thanks to you and Eric."

"As the team leader, do you have any suggestions?" Hetty asked.

"Yeah. I think you should have Nate talk to him, seriously talk to him. Because I am beginning to wonder what his reasoning is behind all of this. Does he have a subconscious desire to get caught?"

"Some people use it to punish themselves for a past they cannot understand or control." the little lady said.

"We are still talking about Deeks here, aren't we?" Callen asked, wondering if she had deftly changed the subject of their discussion to him.

"Who else would we be discussing?" she asked him, as she took another sip of the tea in front of her.

"All I know is that when I came in as Tommy Bishop's courier for Lazik, I saw the look on Deeks' face. It was almost as if he resigned himself that this was the end for him."

"You can relax, Mr. Callen. I already know about the situation and have someone to deal with it for me."

The senior agent understood that she was ending this conversation, so he got up and went back to the bullpen to check in with his partner.

 **. . . . .**

Sam talked briefly with Callen, then went up to Ops to see if Eric found anything out for him. Eric looked at him and knew exactly what he wanted.

"I checked it out, Sam, and every single one of those decorations were earned. He probably deserves more, but he refuses to accept many of them. I saw an eMail he sent to Bates about this last mission. He told Bates that he didn't want any recognition for himself, but that Traynor should get the honor. He put her in for a purple heart and medal of valor, even though there really is no next of kin to present them to."

"You mean that he got no recognition from this last assignment?" Sam asked wondering how they could do that to him. "He gets blown up and pounded to a pulp and people consider that nothing?" He could hardly believe it.

"No. He said in the eMail that he considered the mission a complete failure because he didn't have Traynor's back all the time like a partner should, and she got killed on his watch."

"But that wasn't his fault." Sam quickly broke in.

"He considers it to be," Eric stated.

"Okay, thanks, Eric." Sam turned to go and try to figure out what made this detective tick. If those medals and commendations were all earned, and he had no reason to doubt Eric's research into the matter, then one would have to be impressed with Deeks' record. But it was his record as a cop. Being an agent for NCIS was entirely different. The man would have to earn any respect that Sam could give him for his work here.

"No problem, Sam," Eric insisted, as he had already turned and started typing on his keyboard.

 **. . . . .**

Hetty finished her cup of tea, then picked up the phone and called Dr. Sandstarom. When he finally got on the line, she carefully listed everything that both Eric and Callen had told her about Deeks' undercover missions. She waited quietly as the doctor made a few notes, and then listened carefully to his conclusions.

"Hetty, I would strongly urge that this detective do no more undercover missions for at least one full year. There are certain aspects to his taking on these different personalities that can be very harmful to him, especially if there is no one there to help him and keep him grounded in who and what he really is."

"Harmful? In what way, Jonas?" Hetty pushed, knowing that she needed an answer for the protection of the man, and also the team.

"You know I can't discuss too much of that, Hetty. But there is a big danger that he might do himself irreputable harm, very likely without him even recognizing or knowing it. Beyond that, is something that I cannot delve into with you."

"I understand, Doctor. You will continue to work with him?"

"Yes. Of course, I will. He has fought his battles alone far too long. I will be there to help him deal with his demons for as long as he wants me there."

"Thank you, Jonas. I knew I could count on you."

"One favor, Hetty? Could you inform his superiors at the Police Department of this finding? It sounds as if they will not be as agreeable to this finding as you are. I really don't want to spend my time arguing with some bureaucrat that is not listening to me anyway. You seem to have some influence with them. I urge you to use it to keep him from having to go undercover for them."

"Trust me, Jonas. I will make that extremely clear to them." she said icily.

 **. . . . .**

Hetty immediately put in a call to Lieutenant Bates, to inform him of the doctor's findings.

"Lieutenant Bates, I'm calling about the health of our liaison, Detective Deeks."

"You mean he is really banged up enough that he needs a few days off? You can just tell him that I didn't mean anything by asking him to bring a doctor's note with him when he came back to work. I just thought that he was just trying to get some extra time off," the police officer confessed.

"I'm afraid that it is a little more involved than that. The detective has seen a doctor, and he has determined that the psychological damage that is mounting from going undercover for so long and so many times might do the young man irreparable harm."

"You had him go and see a shrink? We have our own her at LAPD. He needs to come in and see one of our doctors to get checked out." Bates started fuming.

"Dr. Jonas Sandstarom is an expert in the field. If you ask any of the doctors working with the Police Department they would agree with that."

"So, what does this so-called expert have to say about Deeks?" the Lieutenant asked.

"He recommends that Mr. Deeks does not do any long term undercover missions for at least a year."

"You are taking my best asset away from me. Already there have been requests from other divisions for him to work undercover operations for them. Now you are saying that he can't do them. They want him. They need him. He is the best we've got."

"And he wants and needs to stay alive and sane. That will not happen if he continues to place himself in danger in these undercover situations."

"You know, we can always revoke our agreement and bring him back to us. You would have no control over him then."

"Lieutenant Bates, you do not want to get into a pissing contest with me. You would always lose if you tried. We could just as easily take him from you and make him a full-time agent. Then he would never be available for you in the future."

After a few moments of silence, Bates gave in to the little ninja, just as she knew he would. "All right. I will cancel all the undercover operations for him and make a note in his file. Could you please have the doctor send his recommendations that I can place that in his file too?"

A big smile came over Hetty's face as she said, "Certainly. I will do that for you," and then ended the call.

 **. . . . .**

That smile remained on her face as her mind started racing and new plans were formed. She imagined that Deeks and Traynor had probably gotten a little closer than partners normally do, and she was wondering if it could happen again. She felt like Hermann Melville's 'Lightening Rod Man', trying to draw that bolt down from the sky in the hope that it would produce the rain that everyone craved. Perhaps, just maybe, if she would get Deeks and Kensi Blye in an extremely close partnership, maybe lightning might strike again, and the two of them would help heal each other. Certainly she could send the detective undercover if his partner was with him. His partner could keep him grounded, and remind him of who he really was when he would need it.

But would it work? Hetty knew that when one tried to manipulate the strings of the heart, one did not always get the desired results. There would be so many variables in trying to bring the two people together. If any one of them did not go in the proper way, it could circumvent everything that she was trying to do. All she could do was to try and help draw them as close as possible and keep them there as long as possible and hope for the best.

Even if the romantic sparks would not fly between the two of them, the Operations Manager knew that the two of them would make a great team. Deeks had already proved himself to her, demanding to continue the mission, even after his partner had been killed. He didn't do it for himself. It was for his partner, and for her alone that he wanted to bring a conclusion to the human trafficking case. Hetty had found out about Jess' cousin, Christina, and the promise the young woman made to the dead young girl. This was the devotion that Hetty was seeking in the agents she directed.

 **. . . . .**

Just a few feet away from the backside of Hetty's desk, Callen found himself thinking about the detective too. He knew that he told Hetty when he saw him kneeling in front of Lazik, he looked resigned to his fate. What he didn't tell her was that the young man never broke his cover. Lazik had to show him his cover was blown, and even then, Deeks did not cower, like so many normal people would have. Instead, he fought his would-be executioner, with everything left to his disposal.

Was he feeling slightly jealous of the man? The agent looked deep into his heart, and thought about what he learned about Deeks today. Although he never consciously thought about it, the older man enjoyed the reputation that he had built for himself, starting in the CIA and working its way down to the present NCIS days. People looked on him as a legend. He was able to take on any cover and make it his own.

But what would happen if Deeks became a permanent member of the team? Would Hetty swap him out with the detective? The younger man certainly had more experience with undercover work, especially the deep, long term type. Something about the man continued to disturb Callen, although he couldn't quite put his finger on it. But he would continue to watch him, and wait until he found out what the answer to his dilemma was.

 **. . . . .**

 **Topanga Point, Los Angeles County || November 6, 2010**

Marty found himself with nothing to do. He couldn't go in to the Mission or South Bureau Police building even to do paperwork because he was taking a few days off. He had turned in the key to Jess' place. Besides, there was nothing left there to bring him to return. His own place was just an empty shell where he rattled around, doing nothing, until it was time to leave.

Maybe if he tried to go surfing, he might be able to clear his mind and start to figure out in what direction he needed to go. He knew Jess would want him to move on with his life. But he just wondered if it was too soon, if he was too heartbroken even to consider any possibilities.

He found himself naturally going toward the Santa Monica Beach area. When he realized this, he turned and drove away as fast as he could. He didn't need anything more to remind him of the girl who was no longer there.

Deeks drove all the way out to Topanga Point near the far edge of Los Angeles County. Normally this beach would be crowded with people on a Saturday, but with the flat water and non-existent winds, there were very few people to share the beach with him. Paddling out to a solitary spot on the water, he sat on his board partially hunched over, as he tried to develop some sort of resolution to his problems. Unfortunately, his mind was as empty as the water around him.

His appointment with Dr. Sandstarom was not until Monday. two days away. Until that time, he was alone. Alone with his thoughts. Alone with his demons. Already he could hear his father in the back of his mind, whispering to Max. Then the two of them softly joined in a round of diabolical laughter.

He had to get them out of his head. If Dr. Sandstarom couldn't help him, he didn't know what he would do. The tears that began to fall from his eyes mingled with the water of the ocean.

 **=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**


	14. Chapter 14

**=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS: LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-5 (but I do have season 6 on order). I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

 **A/N: All of my stories will be on temporary hiatus until further notice. I still need to have some medical procedures taken care of. Until they have been completed I have been told to spend limited time on the computer. The whole process may be done hopefully by mid-December. Until that time, I will post when I am able. When things have been successfully completed, I will again continue to post new chapters regularly. I am sorry if this disappoints people, but I have to take care of me so I can continue to write.**

 **A/N 2: Thanks, Gina and Sue for being more than betas – reading, suggesting, always improving the work that I post.**

 **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead**

 **Chapter 14**

 **Deeks' Apartment, Long Beach ||**

Deeks began to realize that if he continued to do the same things over and over again and expect the results to change, that he would go insane. Dr. Sandstarom had mentioned one thing in their session that resonated with him. If he wanted things to change in his life, he would have to start doing things differently. He was determined to try to make that change. Maybe it would force the demons from his mind.

The detective remembered how he had sarcastically snapped at his boss at LAPD. Thinking back, Deeks knew that Bates did not deserve the treatment that he gave him. Yes, he had lost his partner and just come back from her funeral. But the Lieutenant had lost Traynor too. Deeks did not know what it felt like to order people into situations where they might not come back. And when that horrific result happens, he had no clue how it affected how they continued to deal with their job and day to day events. Bates must be feeling just as bad as he was. The man deserved an apology from him.

Picking up his phone, he put in a call to his LAPD boss.

"Lieutenant, this is Deeks. I...uh...I really don't know how to say this...I was wrong the way I treated you the last time I called." He rushed through the words as if he would not get them out if he didn't.

"Deeks? Is that really you? The voice sounds the same, but the words are not making sense."

"It's me, Lieutenant. And I do apologize for my last call. I was hurting. A lot. But I didn't realize that you must have been hurting just as much, or even more because Jess died. And for not realizing that, I have to ask your forgiveness."

 _I wonder if it is that doctor that the little witch is having him see that made this change in him?_ Bates thought to himself. _Whatever it is, it might be a whole lot easier dealing with him, especially if I don't have him to do any more undercover assignments._

"That's okay, Deeks. All of us here were torn up with Traynor's death. It should have never happened. And Internal Affairs is gonna see that Scarli gets everything that's coming to him for his hand in it. I hope he doesn't get the death penalty. Just have him put in the prison general population and let it be known he was a cop. The inmates will dispense their own justice on him. I'll bet it isn't more than a month and he's dead." Bates confessed.

"Yeah," the younger man agreed. "But I really wanted to thank you for getting the medals for Traynor. I was glad to see that they included the ones she earned here mentioned at her funeral in Chicago."

"You don't have to thank me. You know it wasn't my doing. I could have never rushed them through that fast, no matter how deserving she was of them."

"Let me guess. My other boss? Of course it was. Henrietta Lange has her fingers in everything. I don't doubt that she gave the Chief of Police a call and told him, not asked him, but told him to rush the commendations through. She probably told him which ones to award her, too." Deeks said, with a slight tone of awe in his voice.

"You know, there are some more ribbons for your chest too. If it was that little woman behind it, she included you in the commendations."

"I don't want anything out of it. My partner died, and nothing will bring her back. Why should I be rewarded for that?" the young man exclaimed.

"You know that she is gonna demand it, and I'm the one she will take it out on."

"You just tell Hetty that I am the one who is refusing to accept them. No matter how much she insists, I will refuse. I will quit the LAPD, and my position at NCIS, if I have to, rather than accept any medals or commendations for killing my partner."

Bates tried to calm him down, "Deeks, you know that the medals are not for that. . . "

The young man jumped in before he could continue, "But that's what I see them as. I won't have them. I'll leave. I swear it. I know someplace in the Midwest that would accept my application immediately."

"Okay, Deeks. I understand. I'll make a note of it in your file. Anything else?" the Lieutenant asked, as he noted that these awards should be handed out later, maybe at the Police Recognition Banquet, because of how the detective felt. Maybe even next year's banquet.

"No. Just that I don't know how long it will be before the doctor certifies me for work. I'll give you a call when that happens."

"That's fine. Just take care of yourself and come back to us."

"Yeah." Deeks didn't know how much bitterness came across in his final phrase. He tried to make nice with his boss. Evidently he still had a long way to go yet.

 ** **. . . . .****

 ** **Professional Building, Downtown Los Angeles****

Deeks again paused before going into Dr. Sandstarom's office. This time, it wasn't his apprehension about the doctor. While not a friend yet, even as informally as he considered Nate Getz to be, the man no longer intimidated him. He was concerned, however, about what the therapist would try to dig out of his mind. Would it just give his father more ammunition to use against him in his nightmares or through Max? But he knew that he had to get the doctor's endorsement if he were going to go back to work.

Consigning himself to the inevitable, he entered the outer office. The receptionist looked up at him and nodded, acknowledging his presence, then indicated that he should go into the doctor's private office. Seeing that the door was left ajar, Deeks went in and sat down in the same grouping of chairs he did last time. Dr. Sandstarom picked up his notepad, got up from his desk and joined the detective.

After a very little small talk on how he felt, the doctor began the session. "Today I would like you to talk about the women in your life. Can you tell me about your mother?"

Deeks never expected this topic to come up so abruptly. Hee knew it would be on the doctor's agenda, but thought he would have more time to prepare himself for if."

"Ah..my mom. What do I remember about her? She kept a nice little home. She often went without just so my sister and I would have the things that we needed. That was especially true after Gordon lost his job and started drinking all the time. He blamed me for a lot of his problems, but mom protected me, often taking the beatings that were intended for me. I think Gordon killed her the night that I shot him." Deeks' voice had gotten progressively quieter during this answer. In the end, it was barely a moderate whisper.

"Don't you know if your father killed your mother? You were there. Didn't you see it?"

"I was there. I saw Gordon beat her until she didn't move. When the police and social services came that night, they whisked me out of there. No one wanted to talk about it. I was interviewed as to my part in it. But I never saw the outcome. Nobody told me about the trial, except for the fact that Gordon was locked away and couldn't hurt me anymore."

"As a lawyer or police officer, you never wanted to see the court records?"

"I wanted nothing at all to do with Gordon Brandel. I have cut myself off completely from him. The only thing that I really care about is that he is dead, and cannot physically hurt me. I wish I could say the same thing about the one in my head." His brain had blanked out what had happened. The detective could have gone back and read the official police report, but he never did because he didn't think he could handle it.

"You said you had a sister. Is she still living? What sort of relationship do you have with her?"

Deeks' eyes dropped to looking into his lap and he drew in a large breath of air as if he was going to break out and weep. "Fern... she was my older sister. She was so good. I never heard my parents use her middle name because she never got into trouble. She taught me how to read and do my math. Mom was always out working, so I pretended Fern was the mother who loved me. We had plans to join the circus together. But Gordon went and got her after beating my mom to a pulp. He choked her and raped her in front of me. He was gonna kill me too, that's why I shot him."

As the doctor continued to listen to the early life of the man before him, he marveled more and more that he was as sane and well adjusted as he was, with all that he endured. He had known others who had permanently snapped under even less pressure.

"What about high school? Did you date a lot then?" the doctor asked.

"No. I was really not the best catch in high school. I was known to be adopted, but by then I had my last name changed so they didn't know my past. But that was almost worse than reality. The kids kept making up their own stories about why I wasn't wanted by my family so I was put into the system. I was a small kid, so I wasn't an athlete. I wasn't really smart enough to be a geek. I was just off to the side, all by myself. None of the girls wanted to be seen with me. I never went to the prom. I just tried to get through my high school years."

What about college? Was it just more of the same, or did you finally break out and have any relationships then?"

"No. In college and law school, it was me that turned my back on relationships, at least any long time ones. There were a few short-term relationships, but nothing lasting more than a month or two. I really didn't have the time or the money to invest in anything but my studies. The academics came first and everything else was squeezed into whatever time, if any, was left."

"Janet Deeks, she was your adopted mom? What was life like with her?"

"She and Michael were so great. They were older and had fostered others before I entered their home. They treated me as if I was their natural child. I loved them so much that when they asked me if I wanted to be adopted by them, I did not hesitate to say yes. Then I asked them if I could have my name changed to theirs, and both of them cried. I'm just sorry that Janet died of diabetes before she got to see me graduate from UCLA."

"How about as a cop? Any ladies make an impact in your life?"

"You must know what a cop's schedule is like. Long hours at work, constant stress, rules on just about everything governing your life. The possibility of any relationship is always hit or miss. Unless it is with your partner or someone in the squad, the only women you get to associate with is bar girls and hookers."

"Speaking of partners, what about your relationship with Jess Traynor? She was your partner for what, five or six months?"

"God, Doc. I really don't wanna go there. It's still way too painful for me to deal with."

"Why? Did you have a romance going with her?"

"We started to develop one. If she would have lived I could see me spending the rest of my life with her. I really loved her, and I think she loved me. I can't forgive myself for allowing her to be murdered. I would give my life for her. I would give my soul to have her here with me right now." Deeks was struggling to get the words out, Tears had filled his eyes as he tried to put his relationship with Jess into words.

Rather than torment the young man any further, Dr. Sandstarom brought up another name that would get his mind off the sorrow he was experiencing with his memories of Jess. "What about your relationship with Henrietta Lange?"

"Hetty? You gotta be kidding me. Hetty? Really? One does not have a 'relationship' with Hetty. One works for her or tries to kill her. She is one scary little lady, who treats her agents like they were her children or like she owns them, body and soul. Maybe she does. I'm still trying to find out where I fit in her little world. I know that I will only remain there as long as I conform to her agenda."

"And what about your partner at NCIS? I believe her name is Kensi Blye."

"Kensi, there's another scary lady. She does not have the power that Hetty does. What she does have is the ability to kill you in ten thousand different ways, with any type of weapon that you can imagine, or with her bare hands if no weapon is available. She is a very good agent and a very good partner. My only problem with her is that she just doesn't like me. She is like the rest of the team. I'm not an agent, just a cop, and everyone on the team thinks less of me for it."

. . . . .

The rest of the hour was spent in delving further into the detective's associations with these various women. Dr. Sandstarom was surprised on the personal insights that Deeks had on each of them. The man was truly a person who studied the people with whom he came into contact; he did not just cross paths with them. That was probably one of the main reasons why he was so good at undercover work.

Too soon the hour was gone, and Deeks got up to leave. Before he walked out the door, he asked the doctor, "Do you have any idea when I can go back to work, Doc?"

"I don't think it will be too much longer that you will have to be on medical leave. I will call and discuss your case with Hetty if it all right with you."

"If it gets me back to work quicker, go right ahead."

 **. . . . .**

As soon as Deeks closed the door behind him, the doctor went back to his desk and placed a call to Henrietta Lange, as he promised.

"Hetty, I know that I'm not telling you anything new. This LAPD detective that you have as your liaison officer is quite a remarkable young man. I have never found anyone who has been so mentally resilient. What he has gone through should have destroyed him. Less mental trauma has destroyed stronger men than him. But he has come through it, remarkably well."

"Well, Jonas. I looked long and hard before I chose him. Now please tell me, that I will get him back. There is a soft spot in my heart for him. I see such potential in the man, for him as an individual, and for the team."

"I know that you have partnered him with another woman, Kensi Blye. I don't know what plans you have for the two of them. Maybe another female partner will be good for him. Please let him grow into it. Don't push them into it, but for god's sake, don't do anything to hinder it either. It may blossom and help him to heal. Or he might find his healing somewhere else. It's hard to say.

"So you are saying that he will be okay?"

"The man is fragile. I don't know how much more it will take to break him. Treat him kindly, Hetty, as one of your special children. If you do, he will endure."

"Thank you, doctor."

 ** **. . . . .****


	15. Chapter 15

**=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS: LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-6. I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

 **A/N: All of my stories will be on temporary hiatus until further notice. I still need to have some medical procedures taken care of, the first one occurring on 10/15/2015. Until they have been completed I have been told to spend limited time on the computer. The whole process may be done hopefully by mid-December. Until that time, I will post when I am able. When things have been successfully completed, I will again continue to post new chapters regularly. I am sorry if this disappoints people, but I have to take care of me so I can continue to write.**

 **A/N 2: Thanks, Gina and Sue for being more than betas – reading, suggesting, always improving the work that I post.**

 ** **A/N: 3:**** Thanks Susan for the idea for parts of this chapter. It sure helps to be able to bounce these ideas off someone else and see things in there that your bunnies have placed there but forgot to tell you about.

 **A/N: 4:** To the Guest Reviewer who wants the Densi - you might as well stop reading this story - any Densi - if indeed it should happen - is much further down the road - both have issues that have to be cleared up

 **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead**

 **Chapter 15**

 ** **Professional Building, Downtown Los Angeles****

Hetty heard Dr. Jonas Sandstarom describe her LAPD detective liaison, "The man is fragile. I don't know how much more it will take to break him. Treat him kindly, Hetty, as one of your special children. If you do, he will endure." She wrinkled her brow at these words. "Can you further elaborate on that, Jonas? What do you mean that 'he will endure'? I would like him to have more of a life than just one he will merely get through. I can't imagine him just going through the motions of his life and not enjoying any of it."

"Just from the short time that I have spent with him I cannot imagine him just going through the motions in his life either. He is a fighter. He is going through a daily struggle with his demons. It is an internal fight that, at the end of the day, can leave him mentally drained and physically exhausted, He might be bloodied and bowed, but he will survive and come out on top. That's what I meant when I said he would endure. Does that answer your question, Hetty?"

"Yes. It does. It also gives me hope for Mr. Deeks' future. Thank you, doctor."

 **. . . .**

 ** **2010 – 2013****

Detective Marty Deeks found that he did have a future as the LAPD liaison for NCIS. Both Lieutenant Bates and Hetty followed Dr. Sandstarom's advice and he was not sent into any extended undercover operations by himself for over a year. There were a series of short-term operations in which he was directed to participate, and two drug stings where he was paired up with a female detective in a husband and wife team effort.

His position within the team started to gel the longer he worked with them. Sam began to see why the detective had earned all those awards and commendations. The man was highly intelligent, once you managed to overlook his comical attitude. There were several times up in Ops when the rest of the team was struggling to make a connection between different aspects of a case that his street smarts pulled the parts together. He carefully studied all the elements of the case, as if he were the one who had to come up with the plan of action. Sam wondered what was going on with this. Deeks was the least senior of the team, not even an agent. It would take a miracle for him to have to lead the team and plan the operation. At least he had the good sense not to act like he was the actual leader.

What he did not have the good sense to do was shut up. His mouth was always open. And it was always a joke or funny remark. He did it so often that it no longer was funny. Sam couldn't figure out why Kensi hadn't killed him yet. The constant noise and banter that originated from his mouth got tiring so very fast. He wondered why G didn't just tell him to put a sock in it. Most of the time his constant babbling didn't add anything to the conversation, much less the case.

The more that Sam thought about it, the more he felt that Deeks reminded him of a clown, and Sam never liked clowns. There was that incident when he was eight years old, and his auntie took him to the circus. He got scared by Jocko when he was picked to help the clowns and was jammed in with a bunch of them in the clown car.

But now that he thought more about it, his dislike of clowns went back even further. He remembered watching the Howdy Doody show on Saturday morning when he was a very young child. He was just learning his words, and he tried to pay special attention to the words used on the show to see if he could understand them.

But a lot of the time when Buffalo Bob was talking to him and the rest of the TV audience, Clarabell the clown would come out and interrupt the conversation. He would bounce around, honking his silly horn until he got everyone's attention. People laughed at that on the show, but it made Sam angry. Even as a little boy he knew that you were not supposed to act like that. A person could not always get their way, no matter how hard they wanted it. But as a small child there was little he could do about it, except feel hurt and get angry.

Sam still got angry at all the clowns out there that thought they could get their own way. That was why he became a SEAL, and that was why he joined NCIS when he retired from active duty in the Navy. Too many people thought they could take the law into their own hands and force others to do things their way. Unfortunately, most of these ways broke the law, one way or another. And it was Sam's job, as an adult, to do what he could not as a kid, to stop them from hurting anyone else.

Deeks kept coming perilously close to that line. His annoying antics and constant interruptions seemed to get on everyone's nerves. But even Sam had to admit that the young detective never crossed the line. All of his tomfoolery (or should that be deeksfoolery?) was never employed to hurt people. He always seemed to know when to back off.

That certainly played out in Sam's changing opinion of Deeks. When the detective was first added to the team, Sam found it hard to hide his resentment and hostility toward him. Dominic Veil, the agent that Deeks was replacing, was only missing. He had been captured by terrorists, but there still was an outside chance for them to get the young agent back. They didn't need this cop, and Sam made that abundantly clear to him. His help was minimal, at least in Sam's opinion, on the couple of missions that they had before they found Dom.

Things did change somewhat after Dom was found. Sam kept blaming himself that he couldn't figure out that the young agent had not been taken out of the country, but instead been held within the city. They found him and rescued him, getting caught up in a major firefight with the terrorists on a theater roof. In that battle, Dom stepped in front of a burst of automatic rifle fire that would have killed Sam. The young man sacrificed himself to save Sam's life. In spite of all Sam's efforts to stop the bleeding until the paramedics arrived, Dom died in Sam's arms. Sam continued to blame himself for Dom's death.

The senior agent did not know which image bothered him more. He remembered the forlorn picture of an empty desk with Dom's alien bobble head sitting there, the only thing that remained of the young man. But now there was Deeks, sitting in Dom's place, attempting to claim a spot among the real agents, trying his best to fit in, but failing miserably. Sam was not a prejudiced man, but he would rather have the young, black, MIT graduate, who was desperate to learn everything that he could about being an agent, rather than an older, white, laid back, surfer cop, who may or may not want to become an agent, someday.

His made his displeasure known by calling the detective 'the replacement' and 'the temp'. It was done so openly that Hetty finally had to have a talk with the senior agent, reminding him that Deeks was her choice to add to the team. If Sam had any problems with that he needed to come and discuss them with her.

For the longest time the best that could describe the relationship between the two would be that off a Mexican standoff. Deeks continued to be his smart-alecky self, and Sam continued to look down his nose at the man. Since the two of them did not have to partner up, it usually had no bearing on the outcome of their cases.

Then the team drew the case involving Isaak Sidorov. The Russian arms dealer had gained possession of three nuclear weapons hidden in the US by Russian sleeper agents in the 70s. While trying to make a deal for these weapons, Sidorov again met up with Quinn, an assassin for hire, with whom he had dealings before. He didn't know it, but she was really a CIA agent, who in real life was Michelle Hanna, the wife of Sam Hanna. The Russian once more tried to establish a personal relationship with her and added her to his entourage.

After setting off one of the nuclear weapons in Mexico, Sidorov had a meeting with Naseem Vaziri and Marcel Janvier to sell the remaining nukes. They tipped him off that Sam was a federal agent, and they captured him and Detective Deeks. Sidorov also started to worry that Quinn was an agent, so he tortured Sam by electrocuting him with car batteries and Deeks by drilling out the nerves of his teeth, demanding they tell him if Quinn was an agent.

Even through their torture, they both maintained that she was not an agent. Sidorov finally brought her in to kill the two captives and prove her loyalty to him. She told them to play dead and she fired squibs at them, faking the death shot. While Quinn and Sidorov went to trade the nuclear weapons for gold bonds to the Iranian agent, Naseem Vaziri, Sam and Deeks were rescued and taken to the hospital.

Sidorov and Quinn went to the Cambridge hotel, preparing to leave the country. Quinn texted where they were and Sam, having left the hospital, joined Kensi there to take Sidorov down. The NCIS agents entered the room but found that it was empty. They realized that they were escaping from the roof, and Sam led the charge up there to rescue his wife. Sidorov threatened to kill her, and the agents were forced to drop their weapons as ordered by the Russian. As Sidorov dragged Quinn backward to where the helicopter would pick them up, the access door to the roof opened and Deeks stood there with his weapon drawn. He took the shot and killed Sidorov, then dropped to the ground from pain and exhaustion. When Sam came to check him, all the detective would say was, "I didn't give her up."

Sam realized that Deeks was protecting his wife all the time. He wondered if he could have endured what the young man went through for someone that was not one of his family members. Deeks had protected both him and Michelle and gave their two children a chance to grow up with both their parents.

From that moment on, Sam realized how much he owed this young man. He was the equal of any of the agents that Sam had ever known, hell, he was the equal of the men on his SEAL team. He looked on Deeks with a new perspective. He still didn't like all the fooling around that Deeks did, but he realized that the man was not a fool. For some reason, the younger man was using that to hide his feelings, just like Callen used his silence. Sam even started to play along with Deeks, teasing Callen whenever he got the opportunity. Somehow Deeks realized the change in the big guy, and the two of them settled into an uncertain friendship.

Sam also began to feel better about the way Deeks interacted with Kensi as his partner. As the lone woman on the team, both he and Callen looked on Kensi as their little sister. As such, they were always trying to run interference for her. No one was ever allowed to hurt her.

Even though all three of them were trained to use a sniper rifle, Kensi was the designated sniper for the group. The fact that her dad was a Marine sniper and taught her how to shoot was only partially the reason for her being appointed to this position. The biggest reason was that she would always be in the overwatch position. She would not have to get involved with the breaking down of walls and possible hand to hand fighting. No one would ever admit it to her face because she was a formidable fighter in her own right. Sam could easily take her, because of his size and weight, but most of her sparring matches with Callen came out a draw.

At first Sam questioned all the sexual innuendo that the detective directed toward Kensi. There were a couple of times when he was just on the verge of warning the younger man to lay off, or Sam might have to take him aside and teach him how to treat a lady. But he realized that Kensi was a big girl, and she definitely could give as well as she got.

And strangely enough, Deeks never acted on anything that he said to her, no matter how outrageous it was. So, as long as Kensi enjoyed the banter, and as long as Deeks did not hurt her, with his words or his actions, the senior agent would look the other way and just try to leave the couple to themselves. He couldn't just ignore the detective. That would be like trying to ignore a man in a speedo at a nude beach. But he could shake his head at their antics and chalk it up to the foolishness of youth.

Then Sam started to think that maybe such playfulness was not just the specialty of youth. He had a long-legged Nubian beauty who awaited him in the bedroom, because of that detective. Maybe it was time for Sam to go and celebrate the gift of life and the love that was extended to the two of them.

 **=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**


	16. Chapter 16

**=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS: LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-6. I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

 **A/N: All of my stories will be on temporary hiatus until further notice. I still need to have some medical procedures taken care of. Until they have been completed I have been told to spend limited time on the computer. The whole process may be done hopefully by early December. Until that time, I will post when I am able. When things have been successfully completed, I will again continue to post new chapters regularly. I am sorry if this disappoints people, but I have to take care of me so I can continue to write.**

 **A/N 2: Thanks, Gina and Sue for being more than betas – reading, suggesting, always improving the work that I post.**

 **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead**

 **Chapter 16**

 **April, 2010 - November, 2011 ||**

Perhaps the easiest member of the team for Deeks to win over was Callen, the team leader. The detective didn't know if it was because of his closeness to Henrietta Lange, the Operations Manager of the NCIS Office of Special Projects, or if it was for some other reason. In the time that Deeks was the LAPD liaison officer with NCIS, people there told him that Callen and Hetty had a special relationship. They disclosed to him that Hetty looked upon Callen as her son, even though there was no blood relationship. The longer he stayed with the team, the more he saw it for himself.

The detective felt that, while it might be true that Hetty looked upon every member of the team as one of her children, she still treated Callen as someone special, as if he was her 'first-born'. The little ninja never lectured her boy, but always sought to inspire and challenge him to do better. She would never present a list of her conclusions about a case or a problem. Instead, she would give a list all the possible clues that she knew of, or that she wanted to be known and let him figure out the answers for himself. Even if the answers he came up with were wrong, she would let him find that out for himself. With 'her boy,' for Hetty it was always about the teaching moment.

Deeks realized how much differently all of the other members of the team were treated than their leader. Hetty may have presented a list of clues to them also, but if the results that her student derived from them was not the correct one, the tiny teacher would step in and show them where the correction needed to be made. She tried to inspire and challenge her other children, but never to the extent and magnitude that she did with Callen.

Since Hetty had personally asked that the detective assume a role on the team, he naturally presumed that she also had told Callen why she wanted him on Callen's team. Maybe that was why Deeks felt the agent in charge would want to please his mother and do what she desired, as a dutiful child. He also began to wonder if that was the same type of relationship Max Gentry had with Gordon Brandel.

Deeks recognized that his constant barbs and joking around annoyed Callen, just not to the same extent as it did with Sam. There were times when Callen even joined in and used that joking to tease his partner, to further annoy him. Deeks thought it was really hilarious to see Sam, looking first at him and then at Callen. The big guy was trying to get the words out to defend himself and turn the joke back on the ones that started it and usually ended up speechless.

The detective didn't really know why, but there appeared to be bond slowly forming between the senior agent in charge and him. He got some idea why one Friday night during the celebration of the completion of an extremely tough case. Two kids, a boy eight and a girl five, children of a Marine colonel had been kidnaped and held for ransom. The kidnappers wanted to trade the children for a shipment of rocket-propelled grenades.

The team started off the week with no clues at all. Gradually, the magical delving of the techno twins in Ops started to uncover a cyber trail that allowed the field agents to complete the mission. By early Friday, the children were recovered unharmed, the RPGs were never handed over, and the terrorists were all captured or killed.

 **. . . . .**

 **Casey's Irish Bar & Grille, Los Angeles || ****November, 2011**

Because they completed the case and even finished all their paperwork by early Friday afternoon, Hetty had let them leave on an early start for the weekend. Her suggestion to have a team celebration was quickly accepted, especially when the tiny woman offered to buy the first round for them all. They all decided to go to Casey's on Grand for burgers and Guinness to wash them down. Having been there before, they all loved the food that was served, and the dancing, billiards and darts that were available for their later recreation.

Sam elected just to have one beer before he hurried home to spend time with Michelle and his daughter. Cases where they had children involved, always, made Sam especially angry, because of the love he had for his two kids. Aiden was older and enrolled in military school. He was almost a man, but that didn't mean that Sam loved him less or worried about him to a lesser degree. Kamran was still young and the apple of his eye. If anyone would hurt her, Sam would hunt them down and kill them. He needed to rush home and see for himself that his daughter was unharmed.

Eric stayed just for the meal. He had a midnight meeting with several of his hacker friends to play a team version of the latest Call of Duty video game. The young techie wanted to get a nap in before he started playing because they would usually go at it for six to eight hours straight. He needed to be as sharp as possible this round because his team was only two hundred points ahead and there were only two gaming sessions left in this round. Eric did not want to face the shame and disgrace of losing, especially to his chief gaming rival on the other team.

That left Kensi, Nell, Callen, and Deeks to finish out the night there at the tavern. Both of the girls enjoyed a great meal of shepherd's pie that they ordered from the Irish side of the menu. They then had a short whispered conversation before they left to join in the dancing. Alternating between dancing with each other and strangers, the two of them returned to the table every so often to down shots with pickle juice shot chasers. It was amazing to watch the two of them dancing out there. Kensi's long hair was tied up in a ponytail, and it was flying side to side. Her long legs gave a slight hint of the offensive moves she could use to take down any criminal. Nell was even more surprising. Usually, when a person had a considerable amount of alcohol in their system, they became more tipsy and off-balance. Nell appeared to be the exact opposite. The woman that could sometimes trip over a shadow in the bullpen suddenly started to fluidly match Kensi, move for move.

Callen nursed his second beer for two hours and Deeks had switched to ginger ale as they watched the girls have fun cutting up on the dance floor. Both men had learned how to do this to perfection as part of their undercover work. Since they planned on driving the girls home, both of them decided not to join in downing the shots and pickle juice chasers until they themselves were pickled. Rather, they laid off the alcohol, just in case they were randomly stopped by police.

After the girls left the table to look for some new dance partners, Callen turned to Deeks and asked him, "I noticed that this week was kinda hard on you. How long were you in the system before you were adopted?"

"Adopted?" Deeks asked, "Who said that I was adopted?"

"Relax, man. Hetty gave me part of the file that she has on you, so I could have a better idea of how to use you within the team. You were born Martin Brandel. Your name was changed. I would imagine that it would have happened because of the adoption."

"There could be a whole bunch of reasons why I changed my name," the younger man said, somewhat defensively.

"You also have that look in your eye that every kid has that was caught up in the system. It is similar to the 'thousand-yard stare' that servicemen with PTSD have. Kids who have been in the system can see it in others who were there." **  
**

"I was in a couple before I ended up in the home of Michael and Janet Deeks," the detective admitted. "But I asked them if I could take on their last name. I hated my father for what he had done to my sister and my mother so much I didn't even want to carry on his name. When he came after me, I tried to shoot the son of a bitch."

"So your hostility for those who abuse children goes back to your dad and the time you spent in foster homes?" Callen asked.

"Pretty much so. But there is another more recent reason. You remember Jess Traynor, my partner and handler on that last long undercover mission that I did for the LAPD?"

"The detective that got blown up at the boathouse? Yeah, I remember that happening. But she's dead. How would she have any influence on this situation?"

"Before she died, Jess told me that as a teen, someone tried to abduct her and her cousin Christina. Jess got away, but Christina was abducted and hauled off. They found her body a year and a half later in Mexico. She died as a child sex slave. Jess made a vow on her dead body to fight with everything in her being, those who hurt and abuse children. I made a pledge to her that I would help her in that fight. After she was murdered, I renewed that vow to her right before she was buried."

The detective was quiet for a few moments, remembering Jess and all the time he spent with her. Then he looked up at the agent, "Those are my reasons for hating molesters and abusers. Do you care to share what your reasons to hate them are? You said that kids who were in the system can recognize others who were there. I take that to mean you were in the system too?"

"I was bounced around among too many foster homes. A couple were good, but for various reasons I couldn't stay in them. Others were not good situations, but back then there wasn't anything that I could really do about it, except run away."

"So, how many homes are we talking about that you were in as a child?" Deeks asked him.

"Let's just say 'a few'," was Callen's immediate answer.

Deeks took another sip of the ginger ale and finished off the glass. "What?" he asked. "Five, ten, fifteen. No. It wouldn't be that many. It wasn't that many, was it?" Deeks continued to press.

"Let's just say it was more than five. That's just the foster homes. I was in a couple of orphanages and group homes too."

Deeks' face showed his surprise, "God, man. I thought I had it bad. Your life sounds a hell of a lot harder than mine ever was."

"Maybe it was, maybe not. But the thing is that we both made it through." Callen declared.

"But it could have been a whole lot better. It would have made our lives easier." Deeks said as he rubbed his hand through his hair, almost looking like he was trying to wipe away the bad memories this conversation raised.

"A wise woman once said to me 'If you and I did not go through the things that we did, no matter how bad they were, we would have never ended up the people that we are now.' That is something I always have to remember." Callen said, as he too appeared to reminisce.

 **. . . . .**

The music ended and Nell and Kensi came back to their table. Both of them were thirsty from all the effort they put into their dancing. Each of them quickly downed another shot of Irish whiskey with the pickle juice chaser. They then tried to drag the guys out on the dance floor for one slow dance. The guys relented and each found themselves with a half-snockered female draped all over them. When the music started to go faster, the two men tried to get the girls to come and sit down for a few minutes. Kensi decided she had to visit the Ladies' room, and of course, Nell had to go with her. Ten minutes later, the two women seemed to have gotten their third or fourth wind, Deeks had stopped counting. They went back out on the dance floor to dance up a storm.

Deeks watched Kensi with a genuine smile on her face, really looking like she was having fun. He turned to Callen and asked him, "You got to read at least parts of each of our files. What is the deal with Kensi? She seems so serious most of the time."

Callen looked at the woman out on the dance floor, then back at her partner sitting next to him. He thought about it for a few moments, and then asked Deeks a question of his own, "Hetty never told you anything about Kensi's history with relationships when she paired up the two of you, did she?"

"No. Is there something that I need to know? I haven't had any problems with her as my partner. Of course, I never did partners well, so I'm really not an expert."

Callen pointed at the woman in question with his chin. "Look at her. She's really happy. That's because there is no pressure on her."

Deeks looked over at Kensi have a great time. "What kind of pressure are you talking about?"

Callen sadly looked at his beer before answering the detective. "She won't enter into any relationship with a man tonight. Any encounter with a guy she might have would be a 'met him and forget him' type of connection. You know she has a nickname of 'one date Blye' didn't you?"

"That's a new one for me. I've never heard her called that," Deeks admitted.

"Just make sure you don't repeat it when she's around, or she will take you apart and dispose of the pieces where nobody would ever find them."

"Why?" Deeks wanted to know.

"Kensi has a problem with relationships. She is afraid of entering into one, because of her fears of abandonment."

"What type of abandonment?" the detective pressed.

"Her dad, Jack Simon, Dominic Vail, among others," Callen replied, as he took a small sip of his beer.

"But her dad died, didn't he?" Deeks asked.

"Her dad was a Marine sniper. She was living with him when he was killed. She was only fifteen at the time. For over a year, she lived on the streets because he was taken from her."

"Okay. Who is this Jack Simon guy?"

"Jack Simon was a Marine who suffered from PTSD. Kensi did all she could to help the man. They were engaged to be married. He repaid her by breaking it off and leaving her, on Christmas Day."

"Bastard! And Dominic died." Deeks already figured that one out.

"Dom was her first permanent partner here at OSP. Kensi was devastated when he sacrificed himself to save Sam. She might seem distant to you, but she is just afraid of getting close, only to be hurt once more."

"God. Hetty sure has assembled herself a bunch of misfits, hasn't she?" Deeks was shaking his head, not quite believing the truth of those words.

"And yet it seems that it all works." Callen didn't understand how Hetty knew how well it would fit together, but he was glad that she found all the pieces that made the team function so well.

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	17. Chapter 17

**=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS: LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-6. I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

 **A/N: I have been informed that as long as I post chapters - even at a very irregular schedule - I am not hiatusing - a word that Deeks told me - therefore, all of my stories will be posted on a very irregular schedule until further notice. I still need to have some medical procedures taken care of. Until they have been completed I have been told to spend limited time on the computer. The whole process may be done hopefully by mid-December. Until that time, I will post when I am able. When things have been successfully completed, I will again continue to post new chapters regularly. I am sorry if this disappoints people, but I have to take care of me so I can continue to write.**

 **A/N 2: Thanks, Gina and Sue for being more than betas – reading, suggesting, always improving the work that I post.**

 **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead**

 **Chapter 17**

 ** **November, 2011– April, 2014 ||**** ** **Deeks' Apartment, Long Beach****

The night that Callen told Deeks about Kensi's problems with establishing long-term relationships, the detective was visited by a woman in his dreams. For the first time since she died, Jess came to him. God, how he longed to touch her, to feel her touch him, just one more time, but he knew that was never to be. She was there, in his mind, telling him how much she still loved him, loved him for who and what he was.

 _Marty, I know how much you loved me, loved me enough to give me a child. You saw the pain and agony I had gone through when my family was taken from me, and you helped me get through all that by giving me a family with you. You'll never know how much you did to help me heal, even though I never lived to see its final outcome._

 _My love, you have now been given another partner. She had been hurt and damaged, as I was, maybe even more. You became a cop to help other people. I think she is in it for the same reason. But remember, Marty, that it is not only the victims of the crimes that are affected by it. You, me, Kensi, anyone who was or is involved in law enforcement, cannot look on these horrors that we face day after day, and not be scared and hurt by them._

 _You can no longer help me, Marty, and Jack and the others who left Kensi can no longer help her. You need to convince her that you will always be there for her, no matter what. She needs someone to let her know she will never be abandoned again. Please, Marty, do this...for me. You know that I will always be with you. Help Kensi to experience some of this same feeling._

 _But Jess,_ Marty pleaded, _I don't want to be unfaithful to you. I loved you. I still do. I will always love you. I can't imagine myself with another woman the way I was with you._ Tears started to fill his eyes as he realized his hold on her was getting more and more tentative. Jess' image became more and more blurred and transparent until finally it was gone.

Marty woke up in a cold sweat. Did Jess just visit him from beyond, was his dad messing with his mind again, setting him up for another guilt trip or did he really have feelings for Kensi that he was trying to justify?

He decided to take a shower before he went back to bed. Thinking about everything that had happened that night, he made a vow to Jess to try to help Kensi with her relationship problems. If he felt that they were getting too close, he would just have to deal with it when it came up.

 ** **. . . . .****

 ** **November, 2011 – November, 2013****

Deeks changed the whole way that he looked upon and acted with his partner. He still kept up his constant banter when he was with her, but it took on a different nature. He was constantly telling her how he wanted to be with her, how he would always have her back, how he would not abandon her. Much of this banter had a sexual innuendo, for Kensi needed to be told that she was a beautiful woman, not just a trained killing machine.

At first Kensi was just annoyed with him. She continued to warn him how much she could hurt him if he continued to antagonize her. The female agent even started punching the detective in the shoulder in response to his comments. She knew that she was disregarding the sexual discrimination rules to which all federal employees had to subscribe, but she didn't seem to care. The funny fact was, neither did he. If this was the way that she wanted to set up a relationship with him, then so be it. He was willing to take anything from her, as long as he was her partner and had her back.

Deeks worried about how their fledgling partner relationship was going to survive the first time that he went undercover for the LAPD. He pulled her aside and explained to her that even though he would not physically be at her side to back her up, he was not abandoning her. Whenever he could, he would check in on her through Eric or Nell. If she really had to get ahold of him, she had his private cell phone number where she could call and leave a call back for KiKi. Kensi rolled her eyes when she heard that and almost punched him. But then she just smiled, as she realized he gave her an undercover name as his girlfriend so that she could keep the thread of connection open for her if she needed it.

She found that he tagged her with his pet names a lot. She always acted like she hated it so much when he called her names like Fern, Sunshine, Kensilina, Kay-Kay, Kiki. But down deep, she really felt honored that he would think of her in such a way. Each name was used in a different circumstance. He called her Sunshine when he first saw her in the morning, regardless what the weather was like. Her name was Fern when he thought of her as the angel that always watched out for him. That was the name of his sister whom his dad killed when he was eleven years old. His sister helped him learn to read and do math, and was always a place of refuge when his father came after him.

Deeks did promise that when his LAPD undercover assignment was done, he would call her to find out where she was at that very moment. This way, he could bring her a dozen of her favorite donuts and cup of fresh coffee exactly how she liked it. Kensi laughed when she heard him promise this. It was silly to think he would do it. He would have debriefings and all kinds of paperwork to get through before he could do this. She was so surprised when he called her at 5:30 AM and showed up on her doorstep twenty minutes later, promised gifts in hand. He told her he could only stay for ten minutes before having to go in to the South Bureau Police Building and report to Lieutenant Bates. Later in the day, he would see her at the Mission, as he reported in to Hetty.

 **. . . . .**

Gradually, the blond-haired detective started getting through to the beautiful agent. Deeks remembered the first time that he saw Kensi smile at one of his quick-witted remarks about her. It wasn't the institutional smile that they had all learned to develop when working with the public. This smile employed her whole face.

It started at her chin that normally was slightly rounded with a gentle fullness. When she smiled it was cocked at just a very slight angle, inviting a person to share the emotions of joy that coursed through her. Her lower lip was upturned at its edges, so full and succulent; it rose to show off those dazzling white teeth, slightly parted, glistening in their beauty, and continued to her upper lip, luscious and appealing.

Her smile continued with her nose, very slightly upturned, both nostrils quivering ever so slightly as she drew her every breath. The movement drew your eyes from its very tip to the upswept curve of the bridge and out across her full, well-developed cheeks. They always had the naturally warm glow that no makeup could ever provide.

Resting on top of her cheeks were her eyes, the windows of her soul, How could one ever try to describe them? There were no words adequate for that task. Bold, striking, notable, impressive, sensational, all these and more could be used to define them. Once you had seen her atypical eyes, you never forgot them. Her left eye was hazel; her right eye had a birthmark, making it appear dark brown or even black. When she smiled, both of them had a bright sparkle to them as they steadily showed off their beauty.

The well-developed brows that sat above the eyes were expressive, able to show a question in her mind or anger seething in her soul. Yet when she smiled, they joined the harmony of the rest of her face, adding to the serenity and tenderness she displayed.

Her high rounded forehead showed off her idealism, not just for her job, but also for the friends she thought of fondly. Her crowning glory was her hair, thick and silky, cascading down both sides of her head, framing her face and her incredible smile.

This is the smile that Deeks focused on when Siderov was torturing him, while he waited for her and the rest of the team to come and rescue him, He never lied to her when he told her this. But what he didn't tell her was that when he was in the depths of despair, praying to any and every divine entity he knew of to release him from the excruciating pain that he was experiencing, it was not Kensi's smile on which he focused. It was the face of Jess Traynor, the woman he loved even still.

 **. . . . .**

Slowly but surely, Deeks was breaking down the walls that Kensi had built up around her. It may have been that she was getting more and more used to the obnoxiousness of her partner, or maybe she just got tired of hitting him in the shoulder...several times...every hour. But she started to engage him on his own level by retaliating with her own comebacks. At first her sexual inuendos were rather timid and lame, and Deeks quickly pointed that out to her. But she learned quickly and started to land her own zingers that left him speechless every once in a while. If nothing else, she could goad Callen and Sam to join in on her side and overwhelm him with their numbers.

Kensi started to enjoy herself a whole lot more when they went out as a team, to celebrate the conclusion of a particularly hard case, or on those Hetty team building nights. Nell usually got Kensi to go onto the dance floor and start dancing with her. But it no longer took a substantial amount of liquor to allow strangers to join Kensi for a little fancy footwork.

Once, while Deeks was finishing up his own undercover mission for LAPD, Kensi had an overnight surveillance stint down near the port of Los Angeles. The fog was thick that night and Kensi came down with a terrible cold. The detective felt bad because he wasn't there to help protect her. As soon as he had finished his debriefing, he brought over some chicken soup to help her recover. He stayed and warmed it up, then sat and watched two hours of America's Next Top Model with her as she ate it. Tucking her in on the couch after she fell asleep and turning off the light, he quietly left, but vowed to return the next day with more food, until she was able to go back to work.

These missions of mercy soon turned into Friday night movie nights. He usually let Kensi choose the movie they would watch. She usually chose to watch 'Titanic'. If it was not that DVD. Then it was always some other chick flick. Deeks would usually bring the beer and food, ranging from pizza to Yummy Yummy Heart Attack.

After a while, Kensi became so comfortable with this situation, that she even consented to go over to Deeks' apartment for their movie night once in a while. They never tried this during the week, because there was always the off chance that they might be lulled to sleep by the good food, alcohol, and repeated watching of the same story. If this would happen and they would be called back in to work, one of them might have to do the 'walk of shame' by wearing the same clothing as they did when they left.

 ** **. . . . .****

Kensi became so at ease with her partner that she started to pester him about teaching her to surf. This brought up so many memories of Jess for Deeks, and he kept putting her off, citing his time restraints with the LAPD not allowing him to schedule the time needed. Little did he know that she found another one of the local surfers, Kimi Amalu, a displaced Hawaiian girl who was doing graduate work in biochemistry at UCLA, who was willing to teach her. After five or six lessons under her coaching, she declared Kensi to be a novice surfer but warned her to get more practice in before attempting anything foolish.

When she found out that Deeks was planning on going surfing early one Saturday morning, Kensi made her own plans to be out there to meet him. Was this one of the foolish things that Kimi warned her about? She didn't know. All she wanted to do was show him that this was a part of his life that they could share.

When he saw the agent out there in her wetsuit, waiting for him, he realized he had a very fine woman as his partner. But he also remembered that he once had another very fine woman as his partner. His heart would always belong to Jess. He also knew that for Kensi, Jack would always be her Jess. No matter how hard they might try to work at a more than partners relationship, these other two people would always be in the background, clouding their thoughts, complicating all of their actions, and would be the eventual downfall in their serious relationship.

 ** **. . . . .****

Deeks continued to hide the vacant spot in his heart that Jess had filled. His ability to engage his partner in daily sexual innuendo bantering grew so well, that almost everyone in the OSP thought they were in a strong relationship outside of work. The detective knew that if he would have put as much work into it as everyone thought they were doing, he might have had a chance with her. But could he make it last? He feared that the answer was 'no'.

He had heard through the grapevine that Hetty did not look kindly on inter-office relationships. His boss was not a woman with whom to play games. The tiny ninja seemed to know everything that happened among her people, both at the Mission and everywhere outside the office. He knew that Hetty had not called him into her office to give him 'the talk' about fraternization among coworkers. Nor did he think that Kensi had been summed before her for that reason either. He wouldn't dare come right out and ask his partner. That would just give her another chance to hit him.

So, if neither of them had been called before Hetty on this matter, did that mean that their operations manager knew that nothing would develop from all this office banter and movie night home visits? Or did it mean that she approved of a 'partners with benefits' relationship developing between the two of them?

Deeks had never stopped loving Jess even after she had been killed. He suddenly realized that he was in love with a dead woman. But what about his feelings for Kensi? Was it just rebound love? Is that the reason why neither of them could make a commitment to the other? Raccoons might mate for life, but what happens when one of the pair dies? Does the other remain celibate? Or does he try go on with his life and try to find a new mate? This was something that he really needed to think over. The detective was becoming so confused. His head said one thing while his heart said another. Was there a sign somewhere, maybe even just a tiny little hint, that would tell him what he needed to do?

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	18. Chapter 18

**=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS: LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-6. I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew. The original character Fern Louise Brandel is based on stories written by Gina Mae Callen, is owned entirely by her, and is used with her permission and approval.

 **A/N: All of my stories will be on temporary hiatus until further notice. I still need to have some medical procedures taken care of. Until they have been completed I have been told to spend limited time on the computer. The whole process may be done hopefully by mid-December. Until that time, I will post when I am able. When things have been successfully completed, I will again continue to post new chapters regularly. I am sorry if this disappoints people, but I have to take care of me so I can continue to write.**

 **A/N 2: Thanks, Gina and Sue for being more than betas – reading, suggesting, always improving the work that I post.**

 ** **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead****

 ** **Chapter 18****

 ** **Deeks' Apartment, Long Beach || November, 2011****

The sexual bantering with Kensi continued. Callen and Sam, and to a lesser extent Nell and Eric too, joined in the teasing about how Deeks and Kensi were becoming more and more like an old married couple. Granger scowled at Deeks every time he came in contact with the detective. He had promised Kensi's father, Donald, that he would watch out for his daughter if anything happened to him. The Assistant Director never considered the shaggy-haired detective worthy of his friend's daughter. Even their operational psychologist, Nate Getz, raised his eyebrow in disbelief when both of the partners denied any personal relationship. The only one that appeared to believe them was Hetty, and the only indication they had of this was her silence.

Not only was Deeks still in love with Jess, but he also knew how badly relationships with a partner could get, especially in their line of work. There was always the possibility that one of them might not be alive tomorrow. That was one big reason why Deeks kept talking about every little thing and try to lighten everything up around her by putting a sexual connotation on it whenever he could. It always brought a laugh or at least a smile to his partner's face because she knew that's as far as it would go. Because every time the possibility arose for him to follow through with it, he kept on putting Kensi off.

It was not just his fear of Hetty and what she would do to the two of them for breaking the rules about fraternization with coworkers, that kept the detective from any true romantic distractions with his partner. He had seen what happened when partners started dating in the LAPD. They had rules against it too, but there were just too many officers to keep a close watch on everyone. Too often what happened out in the field was carried back into the bedroom where it was cussed and discussed ad nauseum. Concern for a lover could cause faulty decisions to be made. Being with a partner for eight, ten, twelve hours a day, or more, did not mean that more time together off-duty was a good thing to help build a relationship.

This was true for those who were able to talk to each other and communicate their feelings. Both Deeks and Kensi had a problem doing that. Their experiences with other people had caused both of them to become closed off, hiding behind clichés, never disclosing their true feelings. They spent their time talking about boxes, knives, raccoons everything else under the sun. But they never, ever, talked about how they felt about each other.

Deeks was afraid to have a talk like that with his partner. He was becoming very comfortable having Kensi around, Even though they hadn't been together as long as Callen and Sam, the two of them had developed a partnership that was almost as close. Wordlessly they could clear a building, He knew when he had to bring an extra bear claw or iced donut with sprinkles on it when she was having a hard time balancing her hormones every month. She noticed that after a week away from the ocean, his irritation with people seemed to grow the more time he was denied contact with the water. They knew all their partner's little 'tells', her chewing on the inside of her cheek when she was thinking up a way to avoid a truthful answer to a question, his running his hand through his hair every time he started to get nervous.

They could read each other like a book, both in what was said and what was not said. But that was just in their professional lives together as partners. It was never that way in their personal lives together. But for both of them it was a start in the way they learned to deal with other people that they encountered.

That was very comforting to the detective. Prior to Jess, he never worked well with a partner. Jess had changed him to wanting someone to be there with him. She made him see how well a partnership could work. But with her, he was still learning. That was why he was not there to have her back when she was murdered. His father's laughter still echoes throughout his head when that day's events come to the front of his mind.

But he was learning how to trust through Kensi. Each of them had told the other that they would be there for their partner and always have their back. That was standard talk for every partner pair, but Deeks made sure that Kensi knew he was putting it into practice, not just mouthing words. And there was no one else in the world into whose hands he would entrust his life, any time, every time.

This finely honed partnership could easily come apart if he were to try to introduce any romantic elements into it. He cherished his partnership with Kensi, especially after the one he started to build with Jess was cut off so abruptly. He was not willing to lose the friendship he had with the female agent as his partner at work for an attempt to see if they could partner up off the job.

The longer Deeks had Kensi as his partner, the better they grew in that partnership.

 **. . . . .**

The detective once saw a sculpture that he thought perfectly depicted the personal life of the two of them. Two adults were sitting back to back and the inner child of each was reaching to try to touch the other. He connected it immediately with his and Kensi's attempts to communicate with each other. Neither of them ever looked at the other directly in the eyes, mostly fearing what they might find there. Each of them stubbornly has their back braced, rigidly building up their defense, before the other one has an opportunity to attack. But that action provided no opportunity to hear what the other one was saying. Yet both of their inner personalities desperately tried to push through the physical forms that contained them to somehow touch the other and establish a momentary connection, as brief and light as a tiny speck of down glancing off a cheek

And Deeks was not the only one to feel that way. Kensi often told him that he never said what he meant when he tried to talk about anything personal. He would have to agree with her. He was a once normal child, unafraid to speak his mind and his heart to those close to him. Since his mother had to work to provide for the family, especially after his father lost his job, he spent hours talking with his sister, Fern. Deeks pretended that she was his mother and gave him the love and attention that his mother didn't have the time or energy to give. His biggest fantasy then was that the two of them would run off and join the circus. The young boy had dreams of being an acrobat and entertain people.

Everything changed when Fern was murdered and Deeks shot his father. He was placed into the system, where it was never safe to tell anyone how you really felt. He learned to build emotional walls around his fragile young self to keep others out. He learned never to say what was on his mind, to keep others from hurting him. He learned to wrap everything up in a joke so that people would look at him like a nerd or idiot and not someone to beat up. If, through his comments, he put himself down, then perhaps other people would not continue to do it to him. The young boy did this because fear became the dominant emotion that had control of his life.

He always was polite and agreeable no matter how horrible the foster home was in which he was placed. He didn't go so far as thank his foster parents for the beatings that they gave him, but he never complained to them either. Whenever any of his social workers or case workers had interviews with the boy, he always said that he was fine, no matter how he was actually feeling. Looking back at his life then, he saw that was when he first started to use that word to describe his emotional and physical well-being. As he continued to think about his life in the system, he wondered if that was when he learned how to become someone else, to completely lose himself and take on another whole persona, so nobody could tell which one of the two of them were real.

He remembered that could no longer count on the normal, everyday things that any eleven-year-old child could look forward to. Nothing would ever be 'normal' for him again. Love didn't make his world go round like it did for Sam. His love of Michelle and his two kids, and to a lesser extent his partner and his job, was the thing that gave him a reason for living. Nor was he governed by remorse over missed opportunities as was Kensi and her feelings of rejection by those she loved, that made her reject any idea of loving again. He certainly did not have the driving force of uncertainty that plagued Callen, because Deeks knew who he was, who his parents were, and how he came to be living his present life.

God, he was so messed up. He had heard of other cops eating their guns and wondered why something like that could take place. Some of them even appeared to have it made, job security, a happy, loving family, seemingly no cares at all in the world. But something must have been wrong for them to blow their brains out. Could they have been plagued by inner doubt, the kind that he was experiencing right now? Could their one link to reality have been yanked away from them, like Jess was taken from him? Deeks really feared that he would join their ranks when his father's voice inside his head became too much for him to handle.

 **. . . . .**

 **September 10, 2012**

The anniversary of Jess' death was fast approaching. Hell, was it two years already since she was so brutally taken away from him? Last year, on the actual day, he was such a complete shamble. His father was constantly talking to him and asking him what good he was when he couldn't even protect her like he had promised. The sad thing was, he had no good answer to give back to that voice in his head. The detective's only solace was that he could spend it working on a stakeout with his partner, so he didn't have to be alone.

He looked ahead at the calendar with dread. This year, the 22nd would fall on a Saturday. Unless they pulled a case, he would be left all alone that day to face those accusing voices. For the first time in his life, Detective Marty Deeks feared he would not survive the ordeal. Without anyone to help him through the day, he might find himself agreeing that he was totally worthless and had no business living when someone so much better than he could ever be had been taken in his place.

The only one the detective could think of to help see him through this was Dr. Jonas Sandstarom. He had continued to see the psychologist regularly even after Nate returned. Deeks placed a call to the Doctor's office and Lexie, his receptionist-secretary told him that the doctor was in a session at the time, but she would have him call when he was done.

Forty minutes later, his phone rang, and Deeks answered it immediately.

"Detective Deeks? Dr. Sandstarom. What can I do for you today?"

"Well, Doc, you know that I keep skirting your questions about my first partner, Jess Traynor? Well, I think it is finally time that I talk about her. The anniversary of her death is coming up. Last year that day was really rough for me. I think it might even be worse this year. I need to talk to someone about it, and you seem to be the most logical one."

"What day is the anniversary of her death?"

"Saturday, September 22nd."

"Let me check my schedule for that Friday. ... I can squeeze you in at 3:00 PM that day. Would that be agreeable with you?"

"That would be perfect. I was also wondering if I could get in to see you for a few minutes earlier in the week."

"I think that can be arranged...I can rearrange my schedule so that I have a 1:00 opening on Monday that week."

"Look, Doc, I don't want to put any of your other patients out just for me."

"Detective, you are not putting anyone out. Both of the times that I am opening up for you are held right now by two older debutants, who have issues with their animal 'children'. I'll just tell them that I have to go to Sacramento to testify on a bill in the state legislature that is trying to give all of the rights to people's pets that people have right now. If I tell them that I will talk about their case they will be overjoyed to give up their time."

"Are you really sure about that?" Deeks asked.

"Well, just between you and me, I think they are absolutely crazy for thinking they can get it passed, but don't tell them I told you that." Dr. Sandstarom told him.

Deeks laughed and asked him, "But you guys aren't supposed to used terms like 'nuts' and 'crazy', are you?"

"Well, if the shoe fits..."

"Thanks, Doc., for the laughs and for seeing me."

"No problem, Detective. I'm here to help you."

 **. . . . .**

 **Professional Building, Downtown Los Angeles || November 17, 2012**

When Deeks met with Dr. Sandstarom on Monday, he was surprised at how many cars there were at the Medical Building. It was the middle day of the Hebrew holiday Rosh Hashanah. Normally Deeks would trade off with one of the Jewish detectives so they could celebrate the holidays at home. This year he didn't volunteer to do that because of his meeting with the psychologist and the anniversary of Jess' death.

Deeks sat in his usual chair, and for the next hour, told the Doctor everything about his relationship with Jess. He began by admitting that he never wanted a partner, much less a female one before he even met her. He ended by describing the graveside service in Chicago and the new headstone that he had ordered.

Dr. Sandstarom didn't say much, just asking one or two leading questions when the Detective seemed to overcome by emotion to go on. He heard the young man tell a story of love, deep unbridled passion. Tears came to his eyes too, as Deeks described the scene at the cemetery, where the flag was handed to him and he was included in Jess' family of officers in the Chicago Police Department. The psychologist realized even more the hell that this young man before him had gone through in his last undercover assignment. Again he was amazed at how resilient the detective was. He vowed to fight with every tool he had to make sure that Deeks got through this crisis.

 **Professional Building, Downtown Los Angeles || November 21, 2012**

On Friday, Dr. Sandstarom spent the whole hour trying to find out why Deeks dreaded to face the following day. When he found out that it was his father trying to control his life again, he went back and reminded the detective of all the methods he had learned to combat the voices. He went through each of them again with Deeks, making sure that he understood how to use them. The final tool that he gave to the detective was his business card.

"Detective Deeks, here is my card and on the back I have written my personal cell number. If things get too bad for you tomorrow, if you think you can't make it and no longer want to go on, do not do anything until you have called me. Any time of the day. I will be there for you. If you need me to come, I will. But I want you to try to fight it on your own. If you need the help, I am just a phone call away."

 **. . . . .**

 ** **Deeks' Apartment, Long Beach || November 22, 2012****

The voices started in on him the minute he woke up. _You're worthless. You couldn't protect her. You lied when you said you had her back. She should have lived, you are the one who should have died._

His father's voice got louder and louder in his mind. It was relentless in its assault, the accusations against him piling one on top of another. Deeks went to the bathroom and took some ibupropherin, then started to use the coping mechanisms that Dr. Sandstarom had taught him.

All of a sudden the young man heard a different voice, very faint but so different than the one that was trying to drag him down. _Marty, my love. Do not believe what he is telling you. You are a good man. Fight it with every part of your being. You need to live and go on to show everyone the good man that I had found. Please_ _Marty, for me. Stay strong, my love, stay strong and hold on._

Her voice grew stronger and he tried to lock onto it with everything he had. Soon he replayed it over and over in his mind, embracing it like a life preserver on an angry sea. That's what her voice had become for him. He knew that he didn't need to call the psychiatrist today. Once again, Jess Traynor had become his deliverance.

 **=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**


	19. Chapter 19

****=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)****

 ** **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?****

 ** **Disclaimer:**** The characters and sets of NCIS: LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-6. I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

 **A/N: All of my stories will be on temporary hiatus until further notice. I still need to have some medical procedures taken care of. Until they have been completed I have been told to spend limited time on the computer. The whole process may be done hopefully by mid-December. Until that time, I will post when I am able. When things have been successfully completed, I will again continue to post new chapters regularly. I am sorry if this disappoints people, but I have to take care of me so I can continue to write.**

 **A/N 2: Thanks, Gina and Sue for being more than betas – reading, suggesting, always improving the work that I post.**

 ** **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead****

 **Chapter 19**

 **September - October, 2013 || Los Angeles Warehouse District**

This was the worst Halloween that anyone on the team had ever gone through. It was almost appeared as if they were out trick-or-treating at the devil's door that night, and what they experienced could never be described as a treat. None of them would ever get the scenes that they came upon out of their minds.

The case had started some two months earlier. A young girl was kidnaped from her home. Her mother was a single parent, divorced from her Marine Corps husband. The LAPD started an investigation into the crime. NCIS got a notification, but since the father was no longer part of the family, was not assigned to the case. There was no ransom note from the captors, and the case went nowhere.

A week later, another young girl was taken on her way home from school. Again the mother was a single parent. Her husband had died in the attack on the American Combat Outpost Keating in Kamdesh, Afghanistan in 2009. The circumstances were not similar to the abduction the week before, and no one made the connection to the girl's military father. The LAPD again started to investigate the crime, and this time NCIS was not even informed.

Another week, another abduction, another military family where a young girl went missing. The difference this time was that both parents were active military, and NCIS took over the investigation. Callen sent Deeks to speak to Captain King at the South Bureau Police Building, where he found out about the two previous abductions. The young detective blew up at the Captain for not informing them of the military aspects of the previous two cases. His anger was nothing compared to Hetty's when she was informed of the circumstances.

The team started to work on the three kidnappings, but could find few clues. Eric and Nell ran the tapes from traffic cameras for over a mile surrounding each of three sites but found absolutely nothing. The agents went back and once again interviewed everyone they could think of with ties to these three cases, The results of all their labor was another abduction at the end of the month.

September ended with four girls taken and no one knowing where or why. October began the same way, a fifth week with a young girl from a military family taken. All in all, it was finally close to the end of the month, seven weeks after the initial girl was taken, seven more girls mysteriously seized, before they finally caught a break. A van was seen in the area of the latest abduction and was traced to an abandoned building down in the warehouse district of Los Angeles.

As the agents raced to the scene, Eric put the building schematics on their phones. There were two large main rooms downstairs, and several smaller open rooms and offices on the second floor. A stairway at each end of the building provided access to the upper rooms. The team went tactical and then broke up into the partner pairings to conduct a sweep of the building.

Callen and Sam took the front entrance, Deeks and Kensi the back. They broke through the doors at the same time and started to clear the two first floor rooms, as they heard automatic gunfire on the floor above them. Both groups hurried to their stairways and proceeded with caution to climb to the second floor.

Kensi and Deeks started to clear the rooms at their end of the building. When they came to the third room, they found all the girls. They had been forced into one corner of the room and gunned down. Kensi stood by the door while Deeks went to see if any of them were still alive. All of them were dead, but one. Deeks told Eric to send the ambulances and then put the young girl's head in his lap and started talking softly to her. "Hold on, sweetheart. We have help coming for you."

The little girl opened her eyes, and whispered, "Mommy?"

"We'll get you home to your mommy, sweetheart. Just hold on, okay?"

"Momm...", she said with her last breath as her eyes glazed over.

"Damn it all!" Deeks exclaimed as he pounded his fist into the floor so hard Kensi wondered if he had broken any bones in his hand.

Deeks was wearing one of the new LAPD supervisor body cams that broadcast what he saw back to Kensi's car. Eric had hacked into the system so they saw everything up in Ops that the agent saw. Hetty was absolutely livid at what had been done to the girls. Nell was trying to hold back her tears, but it looked like she wouldn't succeed. Eric's face grew positively ashen, as he told the agents that the ambulances were on their way. He didn't know how much longer he could keep the remains of his supper down.

More gunfire sounded from the front of the building. Deeks gently laid the girl's head down on the floor, then rushed to join his partner in hunting down the butchers. The two of them continued to clear the rooms on their end of the building when they heard Sam yell out 'Shooters down." When the last rooms had been cleared, Deeks sent pictures of the three men who had been holding the girls. Two of them had taken their own lives rather than face jail time with the tag of pedophile following them around. The third one tried to take his chance going up against Sam and Callen and lost.

None of the agents were hurt, and Deeks went back to the room with the girls to wait for the coroner. Kensi found him there, sitting on the floor, head bowed and tears flowing freely from his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I wasn't able to save you."

Kensi sat next to him and asked, "Deeks, who are you talking to?" as she put her arm over his shoulder and drew him close to her.

Deeks raised his head and looked deep into the mismatched eyes of his partner, "All the little girls that were killed before I could get there to help." he said enigmatically.

 **. . . . .**

 **Office of Special Projects, Los Angeles || October 31, 2013**

Deeks rode back with Kensi to the Mission but didn't say a word. When they arrived they got out of their tactical gear, and the guys went over to their desks in the bullpen and semi-collapsed. Kensi saw Hetty over in her office and knocked on the pillar that substituted for her door.

"Do you want to talk to me, Ms. Blye?" Hetty asked.

"Ahh... Yes, Hetty. It's about Deeks."

"Is there something wrong with our detective?" the older lady asked.

"I don't know. I was wondering if you could tell me what is going on with him."

"What seems to be the problem?"

"We came across those dead girls and he lost it, just plain lost it. One moment he is talking to the only one left alive, trying to give her comfort even though he knew she was dying. Then when she was gone, it's like someone flipped a switch inside his brain. I swear, Hetty, if we would have come across those kidnappers and they would have surrendered to us, I think Deeks would have shot them where they stood, in cold blood."

Hetty folded her hands on top of her desk and just nodded with her eyes closed. She thought of the story that Lieutenant Bates had told her about Jess and her cousin Christina, and the vow the young detective made to his partner as they loaded her body onto the plane. When she opened them she looked at Kensi and told her, "Mr. Deeks has his own demons to battle when it comes to young abducted girls."

"What do you mean by that, Hetty?"

"Not my story to tell, Ms. Blye. You will have to find that out from the man himself. As for tonight, if you are that worried about him, I suggest you stay with him and keep him from harming himself or anyone else."

"Okay, Hetty. I'll take care of it."

Hetty watched her walk off toward the bullpen and quickly came to a decision. She touched her Bluetooth to activate it and ordered."Ms. Jones, please tell Mr. Beale that the two of you are to shut down everything that you can up in Ops. Put the computers into sleep mode for the overnight crew, and go on home."

The old spymaster waited until she heard the pneumatic doors of Ops whoosh open and the techs' feet could be heard on the stairway. She then made her way over to the bullpen and addressed all the members of the team. "Close your laptops. Go on home. I don't want to see any of you come back until tomorrow afternoon. You can work on your after mission reports when you are a little more rested and coherent."

Six pairs of eyes looked at her as they all said, "Thank you, Hetty." Sam got up and almost rushed out the door to make sure his wife and little girl were safe and knew that they were loved. Eric just continued to shake his head at all that he had seen that night, just wanting to crawl into his bed and pull the covers over his head and wish it were gone. Callen saw how red Nell's eyes were from her constant crying as he went over and put his hand on her shoulder, directing her to his car and a ride home for her. Kensi got up but just stayed by her desk.

Hetty did notice that Detective Deeks had not moved at all and his eyes were glassed over, with all emotion washed out of him. Giving a nod to her female agent, she directed her glance over toward her partner.

"Come on, Deeks. I'm gonna take you home. You look like you're in no condition to drive right now," Kensi told him.

"Yeah, whatever," was the only response she got, as she led him back out to her car.

 **. . . . .**

He sat in her car with his face to the window, listening to his father laugh and degrade him. _You thought that you could save those girls? You couldn't even keep the last one alive, You are worthless, just like you always have been. I should have killed you, instead of your sister._

Just then they passed an all-night liquor store. "Kensi, stop here."

"Where?"

"Back there, that liquor store."

"Deeks, you need sleep, not alcohol."

"Kensi, damn it. I need something to drink tonight so I can get some sleep. Can't you understand that?"

"Okay. But then I'm gonna take you over to my place, so I can keep an eye on you tonight."

"Fine. I'll get enough for the both of us to drink. What do you want? Beer? Whiskey? Vodka? What?"

"Just get the beer. I don't think it's gonna take a whole lot to knock us out tonight after what we've seen."

"Beer it is," he said as he walked into the liquor store. A few minutes later he walked out with two cases of cans and put them in the back seat of the SRX.

"You sure you got enough?" Kensi asked jokingly.

"If not, I'll just go out and get some more."

"Not in my car you won't."

 **. . . . .**

 **Kensi's apartment – Torrance, CA**

Kensi pulled into her parking lot and helped Deeks carry the beer into her apartment. The detective took his case into her kitchen and opened up her refrigerator. He laughed as he turned to her and said, "How did I know that there would be room for the beer? Still living on take out, are you, Kensi?"

"You know me all too well, Deeks. Speaking of food, do you want me to order any?"

"No. I think tonight I will drink my meal," he told her, as he put two six packs into the refrigerator and took the other two with him into her front room. He dropped down onto her couch, and popped open two cans, offering her one. She sat down next to him and accepted the beer, matching him can for can.

Deeks had again shut down with Kensi, not speaking to her except to ask if she was ready for another beer. But he was engaged in conversation with his father's voice, that continued to echo through his mind. The young man had hoped that by pouring enough beer into his system, he would still his father's voice. Maybe he could at least dull it to where it would not bother him enough so he could sleep. He just finished the last full can they had out there when he finally realized that that would not be the case.

His father brought the images of all the dead girls again to his mind. He balled up his fists and tried to rub those images away from his eyes and started to cry. Kensie pulled his head into her lap and tried to console him, whispering softly and tenderly. She leaned over him and started to stroke his hair with one hand and rub his back with the other. He just slowly rubbed his head into her lap, her breasts cradling the back of his neck.

He needed to get the pictures out of his mind. If the alcohol didn't do it, what would? Maybe if he gave in to another need, his mind would be occupied with something else. He hadn't been with a woman for years, not since the night before Jess was murdered. The young woman had come to him several times and urged him to continue his life, look for another to love, and not live in the past. But he just couldn't do it. Whenever he thought about it, he just saw it as more fuel for his father to call him a failure.

But the hands that were comforting him right now were so gentle, almost as soft and soothing as the ones he remembered Jess having. The hair was slightly longer, but it could have grown in all this time. The fog of the all the beer he drank made her face look nebulous when he lifted his head and looked at her. The lips that were there before him were full and inviting. Marty could feel himself losing control to Max. Marty knew it was not Jess on the couch with him. Max really didn't care.

Max crushed her lips with his and pulled her in closer to him. His kiss was at first surprising to Kensi, but she responded to the hunger that she sensed in him. His hands started to caress her, increasing the sexual tension between the two of them. As all four hands started to reach under the clothing to touch the intimate, hidden areas, Kensi pulled him to his feet and led him to her bedroom. Hours later, both of them were completely sated, comatose from all the emotions that were brought to the surface by everything that happened that evening.

 **. . . . .**

Deeks woke up the next morning, having to pee. He felt another body draped all over him. He opened his eyes to see a bedroom that he had been in only once or twice before. Fearing what he knew he would find, he looked over and saw his partner, lying naked sprawled all over him. _My god,_ he thought to himself, _what the hell had he done?_

 ** **=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)****


	20. Chapter 20

****=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)****

 ** **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?****

 ** **Disclaimer:**** The characters and sets of NCIS: LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-6. I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

 ** **A/N: I know it has been a long time since this story was updated. All of my stories are still on temporary hiatus until further notice. My medical procedures have still not been completely taken care of. Until they are I have been told to spend limited time on the computer. I had hoped that the whole process would have been done hopefully by mid-December, but they have continued. While they are being resolved, I will post when I am able. When things have been successfully completed, I will again continue to post new chapters regularly. I am sorry if this disappoints people, but I have to take care of me so I can continue to write.****

 ** **A/N 2: There has been some speculation on how Hetty knew Jack Simon so that she would send Kensi to keep him from being killed as the 'White Ghost', especially with Jack coming back to Los Angeles in the episode to be aired this week. This is my version of that background. Thanks, Gina and Sue for all your help.****

 ** **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead****

 ** **Chapter 20****

 **Office of Special Projects, Los Angeles || November 18, 2013**

Henrietta Lange came into the mission early that Monday morning. She wanted to try the new Irish Breakfast Tea that Carmilla Leeds had sent her. The two of them had become close friends since the days that Hetty was bouncing around Egypt for the CIA and Carmi was an agent for the company. Now Carmilla was part owner of The English Tea Store, an online service selling teas from around the world. The new blend that she had sent her friend was a mixture of teas grown in Kenya and India that was blended and packaged at their warehouse in Pennsylvania.

Having brewed her pot of tea and poured herself a cup, Hetty sat down at her desk to read the weekend news flashes. She didn't expect to see anything earthshaking in them. The 9/11 anniversary had come and gone without any demonstrations against the country and all the security threat levels had dropped back to normal. Throughout the world, things had been relatively quiet this past month. But the old cold war soldier continued to do it week by week. Perhaps it was just a throwback to the time she spent in the CIA, where she wanted to have all the latest intelligence data that she could properly direct those agents that she was handling.

Thinking about it a little more, she wondered if, on a personal level for her, it had anything to do with a certain red-headed pixie up in Ops. Nell was the first political analyst that Hetty could work with, much less tolerate. Hetty had kept her eye on the young woman, ever since she was a senior in high school. Hetty arranged her scholarships to St. Mary's College of Maryland, and made sure that her guidance counselor was an NCIS agent. Because she was involved in the political dispute of setting up the OSP in 2008, and getting appointed as its operational manager, Hetty was too late in getting Nell to sign up with NCIS when she graduated from college. Instead, she took a job as a political analyst for the CIA.

The Company never realized what a gem they had in the petite young woman. During her time there she received some agent training because they sent her into the field in South America. She wrote several concise political reports and reviews that could have helped this country establish better relations with the people in some of those areas. Then they fired her, for using company assets to try to find her long lost sister. Hetty didn't slip up a second time with this woman. Within hours, she had Dr. Nate Getz start to profile her, to try to get an idea of just how good she was. After three visits, he gave the young woman Hetty's number, and a few hours later, Nell was on a plane to Los Angeles for a job interview at NCIS.

The spymaster never regretted this decision. The younger woman was good, very good. She kept Hetty on her toes with her inciteful analysis, and Hetty seriously wondered if she should start to groom Nell Jones as her replacement if something should happen to her or if she would ever plan to retire. Nell was the best candidate that she had found among all the people she had worked with in the past ten years.

But that was in the future. Right now she had to deal with the present. She took a sip of her tea, pleasantly surprised at the taste, and started to read through the dispatches.

Ten minutes later, she was startled by the sound of her land line phone at the side of her desk ringing frantically. Whoever was calling her at this ungodly hour on a company phone did not have any good news to tell her.

"Lange," the doubt and hesitation evident in her voice.

"Ms. Lange, please make yourself available for a 'your ears only' message in Ops that will commence in five minutes." Hetty thought that she recognized the voice of Debbie, Director Vance's personal secretary, but she couldn't be sure. She had to hurry upstairs to prepare for the call.

As the pneumatic doors to Ops swished closed behind her, Hetty ordered all of the staff to leave. There were one or two of them that had not gone through this procedure before and were wondering what was going on. The more veteran techs were explaining it to them as they exited the room.

Hetty waited until they were all out, then went over to Eric's workstation and found the button that she needed. She had seen Eric use it in the past, as he wore the noise canceling headphones that allowed him to stay in the room to assist her. She pushed the button, and was immediately pleased that the door had locked, and the shutters on all of the windows had turned opaque. The big plasma screen had turned on and was showing the official logo of NCIS.

The image on the plasma dissolved and formed into a split screen, with Director Leon Vance on the right side and a man Hetty recognized as CIA Director Justin Barrett on the left.

"Leon, Director," Hetty acknowledged, giving a slight nod to each one. "To what do I owe this early morning pleasure?" The irony dripping from her words was hard to ignore.

Vance looked at her and began to lay it out on the line. "Henrietta, the CIA has run into a little problem and they came to us for help."

"Reallllly?" she asked, as she drew out the word and allowed a puzzled look on her face to come over her face. "They need OUR help?"

"Cut the crap, Henrietta," Vance said. "The request has gone through SECNAV and has already been approved. Now it will be up to you and your people to carry it out."

"And what is this mission that we have been volunteered for?" The more that was being explained to her about it, the less she was liking it.

"I'll let Director Barrett fill you in on the particulars." and Vance turned to look at Barrett's face on his monitor.

"We need one of your agents to undergo a 'special mission'. They are uniquely trained for it. The agent needs to know how to blend in with the surrounding countryside, and needs to have sniper training."

Hetty looked at him with astonishment. "Certainly there are a goodly number of your own agents that would fill the bill. If not, the military graduates men from their sniper schools with much better qualifications than my agents have. Why have you come here to get your operative?"

Barrett looked at Vance, who shot him an 'I told you so look' and then continued. "I didn't list the most important qualification that your agent would have. There would be no connection with the military or the CIA, so there would be no leak, as has happened in the past."

Vance looked at her and then added, "Henrietta, this is a black op, blacker than night. Once it is completed it will have never existed. That is why it is being assigned to your team. We need someone with sniper training to go and eliminate a traitor who has ties to the CIA and apparently still is able to get information about the Company. We need someone to go into the area of the Forward Operating Base Chapman, in Khost province, Afghanistan."

" **WHAT!** " Hetty exclaimed.

"Don't get your panties in a huff, Henrietta. Let Director Barrett go on to explain."

"We need a sniper, someone who can operate completely off the books, to take him out, before he can get any more information on US Marine practices and tactics, how to steal supplies from a Forward Operating Base, and the best way to kill Marines, into the hands of Taliban insurgents."

"And who is this traitor of whom we are speaking?" Hetty wanted to know.

"They call him 'the White Ghost'. He is an ex-CIA agent by the name of Jack Simon. He worked for us for a couple of years, after his first deployment in Afghanistan as a Marine. We used that as his cover story, to find out what information the Corps had on the Taliban and how they were using it. But the man developed PTSD and was shipped home. They tried to give him R&R and it appeared that it had worked. The young man seemed to be his normal self. We ordered him back into the field. But he must have really fried his brain. He came back to this area of Afghanistan and then just disappeared. A couple of reports that we got from some of the Taliban natives we captured was that he went native, joined a tribe and for years taught them everything that he knew about the Marines. This is the enemy that our troops have to face at Camp Chapman."

Hetty kept shaking her head as Barrett continued to pile on the accusations. "And you are entirely certain about his identity?" she asked when it appeared the CIA director was finished.

"That is affirmative. He is the only 'white man' that is operating in the Khost province helping our enemies. That is the reason we think that the natives have given him that name."

Hetty just closed her eyes as she acquiesced. "I will make sure that we put someone in the field for you."

Vance gave her a hard stare as he ordered her, "Not just 'someone', Henrietta. We need the best one that you have." Hetty looked up at him as he continued, "The last one that we sent was not a company man. He was a Marine sniper. We found him yesterday."

"Dead?" Hetty asked, her voice seeming small and so very weak.

Barrett blurted out, "His head was no longer connected to his body. I guess that you could call that dead."

"I will send you a file with everything that you need to know about this case. I want your operational plans as soon as you can develop them," Vance added. "And I want your agent operational on the ground there in one week. Understood?"

"Yes, Leon," and as she spoke those words the call was terminated.

The tiny lady could hardly control her anger at what she was asked to do. If the call would have come on her cell phone, it would have been bounced off three walls, the ceiling, and the floor already. She pressed the button, unsealing the Ops and walked out the door to her office. All of the techs who were waiting saw the anger on her face, and tried to avoid her like the plague.

Hetty picked up her half drunk cup of Irish breakfast tea and the now cold remains in the pot. Carrying them over to the small eating area, she poured all of the liquid down the drain. She would have to make a new pot of tea, something a lot more soothing. She really wanted to open up one of the bottles of single malt and see if she could empty it in an hour, but she had important decisions to make, and she would need a very clear head to make them.

 **. . . . .**

Who should she send? She immediately eliminated her LAPD liaison. He did not have sniper rifle training, nor was he an agent. And this was not an operation that she wanted to share with Lieutenant Bates. He would hit the ceiling if he ever found out.

The other three agents were all sniper rifle qualified weapons experts. Each of them could use a sniper rifle, at least to the same standard as most average military snipers. Hetty made sure that they all kept up in their weapons training.

Of the agents, Sam was the first to be eliminated. This was almost certainly a suicide mission, with no hope of the agent coming back. Sam was the only one who had a family. Hetty would not do that to Michelle, Aiden, and Kamran. They deserved a husband and father.

Of the two remaining agents, Callen was the obvious choice. The man had the most undercover experience, and had put his own time in with the CIA. Hetty let out a small chuckle as she thought of the idea of sending her own 'invisible' ghost to take out the 'white ghost'. The senior agent could strategize better than the rest and could come up with a plan to accomplish the mission. If Callen would not make it back, there was no one, besides her, who would mourn his death.

But some feeling deep in her gut told Hetty that Kensi was the agent to send. The operations manager pulled up the young woman's file, the one that only she could access. There it was. Kensi had history with Jack. Could she kill the man that she said she once loved? Maybe, just maybe, the young woman could try to bring him in instead of permanently taking him out.

 **. . . . .**

Besides, Hetty herself had an unpaid debt that she owed to the Simon family. She sat back in her chair as she began to reminisce. Her mind went back to a place that was half a world away and forty years back in time. There had been a flood of refugees from Communist China into Hong Kong in the early 70's because of the liberal open-door immigration policy of the British. But not all of the people coming in were refugees. Some of them were spies.

In 1976, two years after she tried to rescue Callen and Amy in Romania, the CIA sent her to Hong Kong on an undercover assignment as a tea buyer. Her real mission was to develop a network of informants. They, in turn, would provide her with a list of those people who had entered Hong Kong with refugee status, but who were really part of Chinese Ministry of State Security (MSS), spies for Red China. One of her undercover informants was a man who had contacts with ties to the Hong Kong CIB (Criminal Intelligence Bureau) of the Hong Kong Police force. Finally, after two years of being in the country, trying to get this information, the informant was eventually going to hand over a list of Chinese agents living in Hong Kong.

He wanted to do it at a restaurant, because he thought that a public place would be less dangerous for him to pass off the information. Hetty informed her superiors, and asked for backup. She was assured that other agents would be there if she needed them.

Hetty was sitting at her table, waiting for her informant to show up. She looked around for her backup. Either they were very good, or they were not there yet, because she couldn't make them. At the appointed time, the man appeared at her table and passed off the information. Just then a knife flew through the air and embedded itself in her contact's back. He fell across her table, dead. Hetty saw the one who threw the knife and as he was reaching for another, she shot him with the pistol she carried in her purse.

What she didn't see was the waiter who was behind her, with the garrote ready to slip over her head to kill her. All of a sudden another shot rang out. Hetty saw the would-be assassin fall onto her table. She looked around and saw Sir Roger Simon sitting two tables away, with a weapon in his hand. She found out later from her superiors that he had dual British/US citizenship and at that time was the British Secret Intelligence Service station chief in Hong Kong. He nodded to her and indicated that she should get out of there and let him deal with the police.

Hetty was attacked twice more trying to get the information back to her CIA superiors. Because of all of the dangers, problems, and attempts on her life as she completed her mission, she was awarded a CIA Intelligence Star. Her only regret was that she found out years later, that because he helped her that night, Roger Simon's true identity was made known. Three years later in 1981, he was assassinated as he tried to attend a business meeting in Macau. He left behind him a wife and a one-month-old son, Jack. Hetty never got a chance to thank Roger for saving her life that night. Now she had been ordered to plan to kill his child.


	21. Chapter 21

**=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS: LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-6. I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

 ** **A/N: I have been informed that as long as I post chapters - even at a very irregular schedule - I am not hiatusing - a word that Deeks taught me - therefore, all of my stories will be posted on a very irregular schedule until further notice. I still need to have some medical procedures taken care of. Until they have been completed I have been told to spend limited time on the computer. I have no clue when the whole process may be done, or what I will have to go through to help work things out. Until that time, I will post when I am able. When things have been successfully completed,** **and I am healed,** **I will again continue to post new chapters regularly. I am sorry if this disappoints people, but I have to take care of me so I can continue to write.****

 **A/N 2: Thanks, Gina and Sue for being more than betas – reading, suggesting, always improving my life and the work that I post.**

 ** **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead****

 ** **Chapter 21****

 ** **Kensi's apartment – Torrance, CA || November 1, 2013****

God, it was late morning, and Deeks woke up, desperately having to pee. The light was trying to come through his eyelids, but they hurt too much to even think of opening them. His body was slowly coming back to the land of the living. He could feel another body draped all over him. He tried so hard to remember what he had done the night before, but all that came to mind was taking a case of beer into Kensi's apartment. KENSI? Oh, shit. He pried open one of his eyes to see a bedroom that he had been in only once or twice before. Fearing what he knew he would find, he looked over and saw his partner, lying naked, sprawled all over him like a starfish. _My god,_ he thought to himself, _what the hell had he done?_

Normally, he would have loved to stay there and listen to his partner snort-snore, but now all he wanted to do was figure out some way to get out from under her without waking her up. If she banged him so hard on the shoulder for his innovative comments, what would she do to him when she realized what he must have done? He tried to pull his arm out from under her, but she grabbed it and wouldn't let it go.

"Kensi, I've gotta get up," he said softly to her.

"Nnnh" she answered, and grabbed him with her other hand too.

"You don't understand, Kens. All that beer last night. I have to go and drain my kidney."

'Hnnh?" she asked him, as she wiggled trying to get more comfortable.

"It's morning. Kens. I have to get up and pee and you are laying on top of me." He couldn't tell her that if she continued to wiggle around on top of him, rubbing her naked body all over his naked body, that some other morning urges would quickly replace that one he was talking about. In fact, if that part of his body wouldn't stop growing, he would find it very hard to empty his bladder. He finally pushed her off to the side and hurried off to the bathroom.

Kensi finally opened her eyes to see Deeks' bare buns moving out of the room. She then looked down at her body and realized that she, too, was stark naked.

'DEEKS!" she shouted after him, "What the hell did you do to me?"

She heard the toilet flush and then saw the detective slowly peek his head around the open door frame.

" **DEEEEKS**..." she screamed, as she pulled the sheet up around her. "Don't look at me like that."

"Ahh, Kens. I think it's a little late for you to be modest," he said, a huge grin lighting up his face. "And as far as your first question, I have no memory of what I did to you, what you did to me, or what we may have done to each other."

He started to come into the room, but she yelled at him, "Stop! You better have something on your body,"

"I'd rather have what I woke up in."

"What's that?"

"You," he said, a huge grin breaking out on his face, knowing that she wouldn't get out of bed to come over and hit him.

A pillow flew through the door opening, but Deeks had already pulled his head back.

He stuck his head back in the doorway and told her, "Hey, Sunshine, I'm gonna go in the kitchen and start making us some breakfast. That will allow you the freedom to use the facilities and get yourself all pretty for me."

Another pillow went flying through the air, but Deeks was laughing as he already started walking toward the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, Kensi had showered and dressed, and came walking into the kitchen, drawn there by the smell of the bacon and eggs that Deeks had been cooking for their breakfast.

"That really smells good, Deeks."

"Better than a donut of the jelly or powder sugar variety?" he asked her with a smirk.

"Just shut up, and finish cooking."

"You wanna help? You can make the toast," he said with a chuckle.

"Just for that, I'm gonna burn yours," she said over her shoulder, as she put the bread in the toaster.

After they had nearly finished eating, Deeks looked across the table at her and tried to get the words out he felt needed to be spoken. He took his glass of orange juice and drank it halfway down, but the words still remained as dry as dust. Finally, he looked up at her, directly in her eyes as he started to speak, "Ah...Kens...about last night. I'm so sorry for what I did. I should have just gone home and drunk myself into oblivion, instead of staying here and raping you."

" **WHAT the hell are you talking about?!** "

"Kensi, it wasn't love, hell, it wasn't even sex. It was an act of violent control, nothing more. I could try to justify it by saying it was all about the way the operation ended up today. But that was no reason to justify what I did to you." He hid his face behind his upheld hands, not wanting her to see the shame that covered his features.

"What happened to you up in that room? You were so sweet and kind to that one girl that we found who was still alive. Then when she died, it's almost like something snapped inside of you. If we wouldn't have been with you, I would bet that you would have torn each of those kidnappers apart with your bare hands."

He dropped his hands, and Kensi drew in a sharp breath. Never had she seen such a look on the face of her partner. His eyes went from the bright cerulean that normally brought light to his face, and darkened so much, they almost appeared to be a dark midnight blue, the same color of a police officer's uniform seen on a dark night. That alone would put fear in the heart of anyone looking at him, Kensi included. But the muscles of his face also tightened up, giving him a deathly, skeletal look.

"You're right. I would have done it." Deeks said softly, but coldly, his eyes locked directly on his partner. "I cannot tolerate these cowards who hide behind children and use them as shields for their evil activities. Far too often, what we saw today is the outcome. No matter what we do, we can't save them."

"You've encountered this before today. It is personal for you." Kensi declared softly. It wasn't a question, except maybe for him to relate some of the story behind it, and maybe, help him to bring about closure.

Deeks' mind flashed back to the story that Jess had told him, and his vow to her to go after perpetrators like this with every fiber of his being. He changed her story just a shade to make it his own. Since he had loved her so much and had been so close to his then partner, it felt as if it really did happen to him.

"One of my distant relatives, Christina, was only thirteen when she was taken by slave traffickers. My aunt and uncle held out hope for the longest time, but after six months they had received no word about her, they moved away and I lost track of them. Another year went by before they found her body outside of Reynosa, in Mexico, left there by sex traffickers that no longer wanted or needed her. She's the reason I became a cop when my lawyer abilities couldn't give these animals what they really deserve. I made a promise to her family that I would always do everything to bring animals like this real justice."

"My god, Deeks, I had no idea."

"Well, now you know. Every time something like that happens, I feel so helpless, so out of control, that I want, no, I need to do something that shows me I can still be in control. With help from the alcohol, I'm afraid that you were the one on whom I took out my aggressions. It should have never happened. You need to go to the hospital and have them do a rape assessment on you, while I go and turn myself in. I'm sorry that I blew our friendship and partnership, on something so stupid as this. I only ask one favor of you, before I leave."

"And what is that?" Kensi asked, all emotion drained from her words.

"Could you call Hetty, and let her know what happened? I just can't face her. She put her faith in me, and I let her down. I am too ashamed to face her."

"No, Deeks. I won't do that for you."

"Okay, well I guess I better start off by telling her." He pulled out his cell and started to press the button to connect with his boss.

"Put the damn phone away." Kensi said emphatically.

"But..." Deeks tried to say.

"You know, I'm beginning to wonder how good a lawyer you were. You're so-so as a detective. Maybe you just sucked as a lawyer."

"Wh...what?" he asked incredulously.

"In order for you to admit to Hetty or the police that you are a rapist, doesn't it have to mean that a rape actually occurred?"

"Well, yeah. That's what happened last night, I forced you to have sex."

"It might help if you ask the lady who was there with you. THERE WAS NO RAPE."

"But,..."

"God, how dense can you be? I invited you into my bedroom. I led you down the hallway. I was ripping off your clothes. If anyone raped another person in this apartment, it was me who raped you."

"I don't understand, how can you say that?"

"God, Deeks, do you think that you were the only one affected by what happened there with those girls? I wanted to get it out of my mind just as much as you wanted it out of yours. Hetty saw it too when she sent us home, that's why she wanted me to keep an eye on you last night. She was worried about both of us, and figured that each of us could help out the other."

"But I should not have forced you..."

"Deeks. You did not force me. I wanted it to happen last night just as much as you did. I'm not saying that I want it to become a regular thing, at least not at this time. But I am not complaining. I enjoyed what we did. It felt good, and I think we both needed it."

"So, we can still be partners?" he asked in a very quiet voice.

"As long as you want, I will have your back."

"Just not the other parts?" he said with a smirk.

"God, Deeks, does your mind ever come out of the gutter?" Her thoughts belied her words as she was glad to see his eyes lighten up and a small hint of her closest friend reappear.

. . . . .

Kensi was beginning to understand why Hetty had paired her with the detective. She thought back to the last time that Jack was home with her as he battled his PTSD. Even though Deeks had never served in the military, she could see the same signs that she had learned so well to recognize in her partner. This must be one of the urban forms that it took, and the way that the LAPD had kept sending him undercover, most of the time with just a wing and a prayer, must have laid scar on top of scar upon his soul.

This must have been what Hetty was talking about when she when she informed Kensi that, "Mr. Deeks has his own demons to battle when it comes to abducted girls." And the female agent, far better than most people, knew how much of a battle it constantly was. Her life with Jack had taught her that, because she had educated herself as much as she could about the disease. She had vowed to be by her Marine's side as she helped him fight his demons, and she was there, as much as his doctors would allow. But with Jack it was not enough; the demons overwhelmed the both of them, and she lost Jack to them. She made a vow to herself that she would not let that happen with Deeks.

Kensi didn't think that Deeks was on the mood-altering drugs that Jack had been on; he couldn't and still keep his job. Maybe they could stop it before it became too great a problem. She knew that he was seeing a psychologist, someone different than Nate. But she didn't know who it was, or how much previous experience the doctor had with those who had suffered from PTSD. Perhaps she should have a long talk with Hetty, and let her know some of the things she had seen taking place in the life of the detective. But then again, the young woman did not want him pulled from the team and from being her partner. Besides, Hetty was Hetty. She probably knew all about this already.

No. Kensi would let it go and just keep a close eye on her partner, especially if they were to get another case involving young girls. If he seemed to lose it again, then she would tell Hetty what she had seen, just to help the young man.

Both of them would have loved to continue this conversation, but they realized that they needed to get ready to go in to work. Hetty had given them the morning off, but she would not be pleased if they tried to extend that gift into the afternoon. Besides, the sooner they completed their after mission reports on the case, the sooner both of them could put it behind them.

Kensi got her stuff together and the two of them left her apartment. She drove Deeks to his place and dropped him off so he could change his clothes and ride in with her. He needed to check in with Lieutenant Bates and give him a condensed version of the case they had just completed. He also dreaded the possibility of the LAPD needing his services for an undercover operation of their own, without his partner, without any backup, all on his own. Deeks had started to become used to having his partner with him and did not look forward to going undercover without her.

 **=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**


	22. Chapter 22

**=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS: LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-6. I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

 ** **A/N: I have been informed that as long as I post chapters - even at a very irregular schedule - I am not hiatusing - a word that Deeks taught me - therefore, all of my stories will be posted on a very irregular schedule until further notice. I still need to have some medical procedures taken care of. Until they have been completed I have been told to spend limited time on the computer. I have no clue when the whole process may be done, or what I will have to go through to help work things out. Until that time, I will post when I am able. When things have been successfully completed,** **and I am healed,** **I will again continue to post new chapters regularly. I am sorry if this disappoints people, but I have to take care of me so I can continue to write.****

 **A/N 2: Thanks, Gina and Sue for being more than betas – reading, suggesting, always improving the work that I post.**

 ** **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead****

 ** **Chapter 22****

 **South Bureau Police Building, Los Angeles**

It was exactly what Deeks had feared when he met with Bates that morning. Lieutenant Scott Forbes of the narcotics division wanted to borrow him to ensure Roy Bowers, an undercover officer, would have backup, on a drug deal he was working on. The only problem was that the date and time for the deal had not been set, and Forbes wanted Deeks available at a moment's notice. Deeks protested the fact that he would just be sitting around, waiting for a couple of hours of work. Evidently, Bates had given Forbes the okay to treat the detective this way, saying that he was spending way too much time at his 'part-time' job at NCIS.

Deeks reluctantly put in a call to Hetty, to explain the situation to her.

"Lange," she answered, her caller-id telling her it was from the LAPD, but not Lieutenant Bates' office.

"Hetty, I won't be coming in this morning," he told the woman.

"And why is that, Mr. Deeks?" she asked.

"Bates feels that I am not putting in enough time here. He loaned me out to the narco division for an undercover operation. The timing for this is still up in the air, but they want me to be able to do it on a moment's notice."

"At the moment, we do not have a case pending. Since you are employed by the police department, they should be able to use your services."

"I have no idea how long it is going to take. The actual meet should only take about an hour, but it might tie me up for two days, or even more."

"Well, Mr. Deeks, there is one way that you can change those circumstances."

"Yeah, I know, Hetty. Sign the papers you gave me, and make my 'part time' job a permanent one."

"Exactly."

"Just wanted you to know. I will come in as soon as I am done here."

"Thank you, Mr. Deeks," she said as she ended the call.

. . . . .

After meeting with Detective Bowers, and finding out that the drug meet was supposed to take place in one of the more unpleasant sections of town, Deeks decided to go undercover in his 'homeless man' identity. He told the detective that he had to go home and get his undercover 'wardrobe', but that he would return, and then wait it out with him. Bowers didn't understand the smirk that appeared on Deeks' face as he said this.

Deeks drove home and went to his freezer. He took out a plastic bag and opened it up, thinking that the rank smell that came from it would automatically cover the scented soap and shampoo he used that morning to clean himself up. If he knew what was in store for him that day, he would not have showered, just to add to the believability of the operation. He pulled 'Artie', the name he gave to the reeking used coat, that was just like the ones any other homeless person might wear, and spread it out on the passenger seat of his car, so it would warm up. He made sure that the windows were open to help in the warming process, and to keep the smell from overwhelming him.

Arriving back at the precinct, he went to his locker to change clothes. After he put on 'Artie', he walked past Lieutenant Bates' office, and gave him a salute, a grin on his face that was as broad as the Cheshire cat. Bates just looked at him, and realized what he was going to do. Deeks could hear him laughing in his office all the way over to the narcotics division bullpen.

The detective reported in to Lieutenant Forbes, and told him he was ready to go at any time. Forbes looked up immediately, as Deeks came into his office. The smell from 'Artie' had proceeded him, and it was almost overwhelming in the small space. Forbes would have agreed to almost anything to get Deeks out of there quicker. He thought about closing the door behind the detective, but then realized that the windows on the building were sealed, and could not be opened to get rid of the smell.

Deeks figured that he would just sit at one of the empty desks, and work on the paperwork that he knew had accumulated while he was gone. It seemed strange how all of the detectives in the squad room had to leave, and go out into the field, rather than stay, and work at their desks. Forbes had to wait with him in the squad room, and he was desperately praying that the phone call would come quickly to set up the drug meet. He had moved as far away as he could from Deeks, and if you looked closely at his face, you could swear that his face was turning a little green around the edges.

The call did not come in that afternoon, and by 5:00 PM, Deeks was getting antsy. Before he left, Lieutenant Forbes stuck his head out of his office, and called out to the Detective.

"Hey, Deeks, how long would it take you to get to the meet area from your home tomorrow?"

"Maybe thirty-five minutes, more or less, why?" the younger man asked.

"I have a request. You stay home tomorrow, and if the meet gets scheduled, we will call you. Bowers, you get that call tomorrow, you delay the meet for forty-five minutes, to let Deeks get into position, you hear."

"Yes, sir," both men answered. Deeks saw Forbes put his handkerchief up to cover his nose, as he pulled his head back into his office, and then shut the door. _Payback is such a sweet, wicked thing,_ Deeks thought, trying hard to suppress his outright laughter.

. . . . .

Bowers called him the next morning, "Hey, Deeks? The meet's set up for 1:00 this afternoon.

Deeks assured him, "Okay, I will be there to back you up. You may not see me, but I will be there."

"I may not see you, but if you wear that god-awful coat again, I should be able to smell you a mile away."

"Hey, don't mock Artie. He helps me get into character by setting the proper mood."

"Yeah, when you are wearing that coat, you really are a character," Bowers said with a laugh.

. . . . .

The bust went off without a hitch. Bowers nailed the one who had set up the meet, while Deeks had edged his way around to the car, and collared the driver. Rather than have Deeks ride in the car with him to bring them in, Bowers told him to go home, shower, and change, and see if he needed to come in to fill out his paperwork. He would call a black and white to take the pair in to the station.

When Deeks got home, he put 'Artie' back into the plastic bag, and stuck it into the freezer in its accustomed spot. He put in a call to Lieutenant Forbes as he was toweling off, after his long sanitizing shower. The narcotics chief told him that Detective Bowers had already filled out the necessary paperwork, but for him there was no hurry, and Deeks could file his report the next time he was back in the building. The blond haired detective thought that it had more to do with the Lieutenant's fear, that he would show up wearing 'Artie' again, than any considerate gesture on the officer's part.

Rather than just show up at either place, Deeks placed his next calls to Lieutenant Bates and Hetty Lange. He reported to both of them that the undercover operation was over, and he was available for whatever assignment they had waiting for him. Neither had anything pressing. Bates told him that there might be another undercover arms trafficking case, but it was still in the development stage, and would not be ready for at least a week. Hetty said that the rest of the team was stuck on paperwork that afternoon, and it would be okay if he just came in the next morning. If anything would come up in the meantime, he would get the necessary call.

 **. . . . .**

The detective appreciated the time off. It gave him a chance to think about what happened between him and Kensi the other night some more, and maybe he could make some sense about it. He semi-understood the urges that had come over him. He had let his guard down, and Max, guided by the cruelty of his father, had taken over one more time. He wasn't completely innocent in the whole affair. It had been such a long time since he held Jess in his arms, and made love to her. But it absolutely scared him, how easy it was for Max to take control of him, and shove the more rational, caring, and considerate, Marty into the recesses of his mind.

He had tried to apologize to her, and she claimed that she wanted it just as much as he did. Was she starting to develop feelings for him? But she also said that she didn't want to make it a regular thing between them. Did she just want him for part-time casual sex, a sort of hump-buddy in a partnership with part-time benefits?

He was just so confused. Kensi was always telling him that he was the one who couldn't communicate, because he never said what he truly was feeling. It's true that he spoke a lot in generalities, rather than specifics. Part of that was because of the walls that he had built up around himself from childhood, never telling anyone how he really felt, because they would consider him to be wrong. Then his father would usually take him aside, and 'impress' upon him, with open hand slapping his face if he was lucky, and a fist to the side of the head if he was not, what the proper response was that he should have given.

He learned his lessons well. This was probably one of the major reasons why he was so good at undercover missions. He could read what was expected of him, what the criminals wanted him to say and do, to install himself deep within the group. His time as a lawyer gave him added insight into what he could and could not say, so the investigation would not be tainted or compromised.

Deeks had to admit that Kensi was partially correct. With the other members of the team, and even with her, he tended to deflect their questions on his friends and family, his health, his feelings. But all of it was done, because it allowed him to stay in that little niche that he had carved out for himself, and where he felt comfortable.

This was especially true of Kensi. The woman was as perfect a partner as he could want, who was not Jess. Deeks trusted everything that he was and had, except for his heart, to his partner. She always had his back, and he knew exactly what she would do in almost every situation. If anything new came up, they seemed to have a mental connection, that almost automatically would come up with the same solution. She had told him, and others, that she felt the same way about him.

There was no way that he was going to jeopardize what they had in their partnership, for a couple of casual romps in the hay. There was no type of benefits that he could imagine, that would make him trade his professional relationship with his partner. Within the team, he was the yin to her yang. They worked together as well as the senior agents, Sam and Callen. He didn't want to screw things up for her, by getting caught by Hetty and earning her disfavor. As easily as the operations manager had set up the position of LAPD liaison, and bought him on board to join the team and be Kensi's partner, she could terminate the position, and send him back to the LAPD. That would mean that Kensi would have to get a new partner.

He knew how long it had taken for the two of them to click. At first, she didn't like him, she didn't want him, because she couldn't trust him. He remembered what she had said the first day that he walked into Ops for his first mission with them.

"Deeks?" she said, "Is that the best that the LAPD could do?"

Her question hurt him deeply, just as much as Sam's calling him 'the temp' all the time. He could have defended himself. His record in law enforcement was as good, if not better than any of them. They had the added advantage of being on a team, with updates and other types of help constantly available to them through their coms. He always worked alone, and was highly in demand by most of the other divisions of the police for their undercover operations.

There was more than a note of sarcasm when he answered her, "I am the best that the LAPD could do." Throughout his time with the team, he proved himself over and over that despite the different levels of training, he was their equal in every way, shape, and form. Just ask Sam if he knew any SEAL that could sit and endure all the pain of torture that Deeks did and not give up any information about Quinn being his wife. Ask Kensi how carefully he had redirected all the infrared beams that had her trapped in a room with explosives, and when he hit a snag, bodily pulled her to safety. Ask the team who joined them when they all resigned to follow Hetty to Prague and and beyond, to rescue her from the Comescus. At the same time, he helped to take out as many of them as possible to bring the Commescu / Callen blood feud to an end, in the favor of the senior agent.

. . . . .

They might not love him, they might not even like him, but they trusted him to do his job and have their backs. He had found a place among them. Now he couldn't blow it, just because he gave in to Max and enjoyed the body of his partner. This was not something that he would want to happen on a regular basis. He thought he had heard Kensi mention something to the same effect that next morning, but they needed to talk things over, to make sure that both of them were on the same page. He could think about this all he wanted, but until he knew how she felt, and she knew his feelings, it wasn't going to do him any good.

Deeks figured that he should get it done as soon as possible, so he decided to go in and see if there was any paperwork for him to clean up. Finding just a little, he dawdled over it until it was nearly time to go. If he didn't make his move now, he never would, so he looked at his partner and asked her, "Hey, partner, you hungry?"

Kensi looked up at him with a smile on her face, "I could eat, What are you buying me?"

"I don't know. How does tacos sound?"

"I could do tacos."

They both straightened up their desks and walked out the double doors to the mission.

 **, , , , .**

They found themselves seated at table near the huge window overlooking one of LA's prestigious streets. The linen table cloth and napkins, along with the wine list and offering of appetizers, declared that this was a place to enjoy a fine dining experience, and not just pick up some food to go.

Kensi just sat there looking at Deeks, until he finally raised his head to look at her.

"What?" he asked.

"This is not what I thought you meant by tacos."

Deeks started to go into a very convoluted story trying to link tacos with French cooking.

Kensi interrupted him, "This is nice, very nice."

And Deeks had to spoil the moment by turning that into a joke.

But Kensi was quickly becoming infuriated with her partner, and was not going to let him get away with it. "Deeks, you're driving me crazy. One more time you are talking about something by talking all around it and never getting to what you really want to say."

A look of confusion came to Deeks' face as he answered, "I have no idea what you mean by that."

Kensi's eyes bored directly into Deeks' soul as she rejoined, "Yes, you do. You know exactly what I mean."

Deeks looked at her, not willing to concede the point, "And what is that?"

Kensi shook her head as she spoke, "You get me to go out with you on a date, without really asking me out. Damn it, Deeks, we can't continue to go on this way. We never communicate with one another. I know we've been over this time and time again. We are both great at talking past each other. We are never gonna get anywhere...

He looked deeply into her eyes and said "I don't want to be here with you." He paused and waited for a reaction, anything from her.

For a few moments she was so surprised she couldn't say anything, then she shook her head in amazement as she asked him "What?"

"I want to be at my place, right now, ...with you."

Kensi didn't say a word, or show any emotion in her face. She got up from her chair, and turned and walked away.

Deeks just shook his head in resignation, knowing that he just screwed things up more, by what he had done. Then, remembering that she drove them over, got up and hurried to catch up with her.


	23. Chapter 23

**=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS: LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-6. I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

 ** **A/N: I have been informed that as long as I post chapters - even at a very irregular schedule - I am not hiatusing - a word that Deeks taught me - therefore, all of my stories will be posted on a very irregular schedule until further notice. I still need to have some medical procedures taken care of. Until they have been completed I have been told to spend limited time on the computer. I have no clue when the whole process may be done, or what I will have to go through to help work things out. Until that time, I will post when I am able. When things have been successfully completed, and I am healed, I will again continue to post new chapters regularly. I am sorry if this disappoints people, but I have to take care of me so I can continue to write.****

 **A/N 2: Thanks, Gina and Sue for being more than betas – reading, suggesting, always improving the work that I post.**

 ** **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead****

 ** **Chapter 23****

 **Somewhere on the way to Kanduhar**

The plane's four jet engines just kept droning on and on – bringing them closer to Afghanistan. Hetty had received word from Granger that the young woman had gone missing, and she immediately asked the members of the team to go and find her and bring her home. It wasn't really a request, but more of an order, just cloaked in such a way that only Hetty could do. But no one cared if they were asked or told to go, Kensi was one of their own, and they would do everythng they could to bring her home.

Deeks couldn't remember anything of the private plane that carried them across the country, from Los Angels to Dover Air Force Base in Delaware. He did remember staring at the plane they transferred to for the major part of their trip. The C-17 Globemaster looked huge as they walked up to it, and he was surprised at the three vehicles, two 4x4 model Cougar MRAP i(4-wheel drive Mine Resistant Ambush Protected Vehicle ) and one eight-wheeled IAV (Interim Armored Vehicle) Stryker, in addition to pallets of supplies.

The loadmaster joined them as they came on board and showed them where they were to sit. "I'm sorry, sirs. We were configured for transport of material when the orders came that you three were going to join us. Our passenger accommodations for this trip amount to three platforms bolted to the frame of the plane, with your safety rigs for takeoff and landing dangling from above. I will check and make sure you are safely fastened in before we take off. I'll come back and talk to you after we are in the air. It will be a different experience for me."

Callen asked, "You don't fly in troops to Afghanistan, then?"

"No," he responded, "this plane is basically a shuttle, flying supplies back into the war zone,"

"What do you fly back on the return trip?" Sam asked.

"The bodies of our dead heroes," the loadmaster said, sadly.

Deeks just hoped that this was not a harbinger of things to come.

 **. . . . .**

As the plane numbed his mind, he tried to think back to when Kensi was first sent on this mission.

It was the night that they had talked, really talked, about their past, where each of them was right now, and what they might see as their future together. Kensi stayed at his place all night and they opened up to each other over pizza and beer. Both of them started nodding off, and finally Kensi sort of spralled out, her head in Deeks' lap, who was scrunched up in the corner of the couch, with his feet up on the coffee table.

The next morning, Monte came up and started licking Kensi's face, needing to go out. – Kensi had no clean clothes in her go bag, finally trying to make a longer shirt from Deeks into a dress with a belt from another one of her outfits, but she knew it would not fool anyone.

She dropped him off at the mission, where he picked up his vehicle. He then headed to the precinct house to get some of his paper work done for Barnes. At noon, he was going to take a break, pick up Kensi and take her to lunch. He tried calling her, but it always went to voice mail. Driving straight to the mission, he entered and looked for Kensi, but her desk was cleaned off and her chair was pushed in.

"Where"s Kensi?" he asked Callen and Sam.

"Don't know," Callen said, not even looking up from his paperwork. "Hetty called her into her office and that was the last we've seen of her."

The detective looked over toward the woman in question, who was sitting at her desk, a cup of tea in her hands, ready to be savored. He could swear that the woman's enigmatic smile gracing her face was for him. She knew what happened beween him and Kensi, and she was punishing his partner for it, when it was all his fault.

He tried to contain his anger as he walked over and waited until she acknowledged his presence.

"Mr. Deeks, is there anything that I can do for you?""

"Yeah, Hetty, do you know where my partner is? We were going to go out and grab some lunch."

"A situation has come up for which Ms Blye has the proper skill set and she has been assigned to that task."

"Can you tell me where she is, so I can take some food over to her?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Deeks, that is a need to know."

"And I don't need to know it? Come on, Hetty, I am her partner. How can I have her back if I don't know where she is?"

"That task has been given to someone else for this mission."

"And who is that person?"

"Need to know."

"And I don't need to know that, either. I get it. Can you at least tell me how long it will be until she comes back and we get to work together again?"

"When the job is done, Mr. Deeks. You should know the answer to that. "

He realized that he was being dismissed, so he turned and walked back to his desk. As he walked away he thought, _Right, more likely it would be when the two of them had been properly chastised, only then would Hetty allow her back._ He needed to talk to Hetty alone, and explain just exactly what the relationship between them was growing into. But he was too upset to do it now, and it probably wouldn't change Hetty's mind in the slightest.

 **. . . . .**

Kensi was going to miss Christmas with the team this year, being away on her 'special' mission that no one was supposed to know anything about. Deeks had been teamed up a couple of times with Callen and Sam, but always felt like he was a 'third wheel' when he was with those two. On one case he was teamed up with Talia del Campo, a DEA agent, who seemed more interested in capturing his heart than the drug dealers they were supposed to be after. The best of times, without Kensi, was when he was teamed up with Nell. The young woman was eager to learn anything and everything that he could teach her. But no matter who he was partnered with, or even if he was sent out by himself, there was always that nagging suspicion, that no one had Kensi's back, and she was in a place where she was vulnerable.

This Christmas season was far from merry for him. Even the office party had a pall of solemnness hanging over it. Only several cups of Nell's egg nog, that was more alcohol than anything else, kept Deeks from going home early. The team decided not to exchange gifts in a secret Santa exchange because Kensi was not home to participate. Even Hetty didn't do any re-gifting this year. The detective knew that he had had way too much to drink and he debated whether he wanted to call a cab to go home, or fight Callen for the couch in the bullpen and just sack out here. When he heard Callen agree to go over to Sam's and spend the night there, Deeks went to have at least one more glass of Nell's magic concoction to help him to sleep.

Everyone else had left the building. While he was nursing the very last cup of eggnog, Hetty appeared out of nowhere. "Did you look in your bottom drawer, Mr. Deeks? I think you will find something to lift your spirits more than alcohol." Then she turned and walked toward the main doors of the mission.

The detective went to his desk and found a wrapped present in the bottom drawer. He pulled it out and placed it on his desk, just staring at it. Why would Hetty single him out to give him a gift? And why would she be so sneaky about it?

He opened it up and found out that it was a satellite phone, There was one entry programmed into it. He pushed the send button, and waited until it was answered.

 **. . . . .**

Deeks remembered talking to Dr. Nate Getz once, while he was there to do his regular psych evaluations for the other members of the team. Since he was seeing Doctor Sandstarom, the detective's evaluation would come from him and not from Nate.

One morning, after Nate had gotten himself some coffee and returned to the bull pen area, Deeks looked at him and asked, "Hey, doc. If you have a few moments, there are a couple of things I would like to ask you."

"Sure, Deeks," the doctor replied. "Let's go to my office and we can have a little privacy," he said to the detective, as he noticed Sam and Callen sitting there, their eyes on their work, but their ears zeroed in on what the younger man would disclose.

The two of them entered the room that unofficially had been set aside for Nate while he was here, and remained unoccupied when he was gone. The psychologist took his regular seat behind the desk and motioned for Deeks to sit down on either the chair or the couch.

After Deeks sat down on the chair, he looked up at the psychologist and blurted out, "Doc, maybe you can help me figure this out. I've wracked my brain over it so many times, and still can't figure it out. Maybe you can tell me what is going on."

"I will help you try to sort it out, as long as it is not any information on my patients, or something that would go against the doctor patient confidentiality."

"Fair enough, if you can't answer, just tell me and I guess that I will have to muddle through that on my own."

"I'll try to help you as much as I can. Now what is it you were wanting to know?"

"You do Hetty's psych evals too, don't you?" Deeks asked.

"I can neither confirm or deny that," Nate answered.

"Maybe you can give me a small peek into her mind to find out the reasons why she does things the way she does."

"Hetty? Come on, you have to be kidding. Hetty has a mind of her own, and it works like no other mind in this world. Trying to follow the inner workings of her mind, even for a trained professional like me, could be compared to being dropped into the middle of a maze, without being guaranteed that there was a way out."

"Well, I bought a motorcycle and Hetty made me get rid of it. That little beauty had only twelve miles on it when I was forced to sell it. I don't know how many times we have had to go out and Kensi got to go roaring around on a motorcycle, but I can't have one."

"Maybe Hetty think that Kensi is a better driver than you." Nate responded.

"What? Have you ever ridden with her? As her partner I have ridden with her for years, and after some of those trips even I have to pry my white knuckles from wherever they have latched onto.""Maybe she is just trying to protect you from future harm."

"I'm sorry, but even with all her ninja skills, Hetty cannot predict the future. She has no crystal ball or Ouija board. She uses a silver tea ball to keep the loose tea out of her cup, so she can't read the tea leaves. As far as I know, there is no altar hidden on the mission grounds where she can sacrifice a chicken, goat, or small child, and read the future from how the entrails look. She is using my past against me. It's like she's taken out an NCIS restraining order, to keep me away from everything and everyone that she feels is not appropriate."

"Everyone? And who would you mean by that?"

Deeks basically avoided the question and continued on his own Path. "Let me try to ask it in a little different way then. I know that Hetty can have a mean streak in her when it comes to her enemies. That is probably the reason why she is still alive and hiding all her secrets. But would she let that mean streak be shown toward her friends and the people she has under her?"

"I don't know what to tell you about that."

"Would she punish someone for what they might do in the future by transferring that person out of the team, and not let them know why she did it?"

"Are you talking about you and Kensi?"

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"Are the two of you romantically involved?"

"No. At least not yet. We hooked up once after a particularly nasty case involving a bunch of children. They had all been killed; the last one died in my arms as I was telling her to hold on until help came. When we went home and got to her place, we both had a couple of beers and then used sex to get rid of the frustration that each of us felt. It wasn't love, it was pure animal sex that drove us."

Deeks was not going to tell Nate about Max taking over that night. Max was a guarded secret. The detective felt that if more people knew about him, that would give Max more power over him, and that was certainly something he did not want.

"This sounds like something you should be talking over with her, not me." Nate concluded.

"We started to. I asked her out to eat and took her to a fancy restaurant, but we both knew that was not the time or place to talk. She asked me, point blank, what I really wanted. I told her that I wanted her alone, at my place that night. We left, had pizza and beer, and talked most of the night. Both of us fell asleep, and in the morning, I think Kensi had to do the 'walk of shame' because she had no clean clothes in her go bag. You know what people thought, but we were not going to explain ourselves to the others."

"Why did you want to go to your place?" Nate asked.

"Cleaner," Deeks said with a chuckle. "No, seriously, I think I wanted to be on my own turf. I knew that I was going to have to open up to her and tell her some stuff that was really personal. I guess that I just wanted to be in familiar surroundings when I did that."

"And did you do that?"

"Yeah, we did. We talked a lot about our relationships. She told me that she still has some issues with Jack, that after all these years, she still feels guilty that there was something more she could have done or said to help him before he left her. I told her how much I loved Jess, the plans we made for the future, and how much guilt I still carry around, because I wasn't there to protect her when she was murdered."

"That's a lot of guilt for you to be carrying around. How have you been dealing with it?"

"I haven't, really. When it happened, I was too busy trying to keep the same thing from happening to me, and afterward, the memories were always too painful for me to revisit." Deeks made a mental note to himself that this was a topic that he would have to discuss with Doctor Sandstarom.

"You need to talk about this to your therapist,"

"I'm planning to. But back to the original reason why I wanted to talk to you. Do you think it could be that Hetty is wrong, and thinks we are in a romantic relationship, and wants to punish us for it? I can't come to any different conclusion than that."

"Maybe you should just ask Hetty." Nate responded.

"Every time I ask her about it, all I get told is that it is a 'Need to Know' situation, and regardless that I am one of the principal members of this scenario, I have NO need to know." Deeks spit out the words in anger, but Nate knew that they were directed against the operations manager and not at him.

"Perhaps," Nate said softly in his calming professional voice, "Hetty just wants to prove the old adage that absence makes the heart grow fonder."

 **. . . . .**

And then there was today, or was it already yesterday, considering all the time zones that they had flown over? Hetty informed them that Kensi had disappeared. Two days ago, according to Granger. Granger, he was supposed to have her back, and he lost her. Well, Hetty, how is your plan working out now?

Like Sam and Callen, Deeks was called in to the mission at 3:30 AM. Hetty wasn't even there to face them; instead, Nell briefed them as they moved to the armory to get their tactical gear. Everyone was wondering where Hetty was, and Nell was getting upset with all the questions about her. She told them that Kensi was apparently captured by the Taliban. Granger went out to find her, and he went missing too. The rest of them were being sent to Afghanistan to locate and rescue Kensi. They had to leave immediately, and would be briefed on all available intel when they arrived at Camp Chapman.

Hetty finally appeared with two cases with half a million dollars in each one. the three of us were told to use the money as we needed, to buy information, buy Kensi's freedom, put bounties on the heads of her abductors. Hetty had a few words with Sam alone, before we were rushed off to the plane for our rescue trip.

 **. . . . .**

Whatever was going to happen, was going to begin soon, as the wheels of the C-17 Globemaster screeched on the runway, indicating they had arrived.

 **=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**


	24. Chapter 24

**=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**

 **Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?**

 **Disclaimer:** The characters and sets of NCIS: LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-6. I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

 **A/N: I have been informed that as long as I post chapters - even at a very irregular schedule - I am not hiatusing - a word that Deeks taught me - therefore, all of my stories will be posted on a very irregular schedule until further notice. I still need to have some medical procedures taken care of. Until they have been completed I have been told to spend limited time on the computer. I have no clue when the whole process may be done, or what I will have to go through to help work things out. Until that time, I will post when I am able. When things have been successfully completed, and I am healed, I will again continue to post new chapters regularly. I am sorry if this disappoints people, but I have to take care of me so I can continue to write.**

 **A/N 2: The next few chapters are modeled on Deeks' involvement in Kensi's rescue and roughly follow the events in the episode 'The Spoils of War'**

 **A/N 3: Thanks again, Gina and Sue.**

 **Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead**

 **Chapter 24**

 **Kandahar, Afghanistan**

The plane throttled down and came to a stop. The three of them waited until the ramp at the back of the plane was dropped, then they walked off, the loadmaster directing them to a spot where they should wait. Sometimes the traffic at the airport got a little heavy.

A PFC appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and led them off to the side about two hundred yards to the helicopter landing zone. He told them that they should wait there and their transport to Camp Chapman would arrive in about five minutes. While they were waiting, Deeks watched as they rolled off the two Cougar MRAPs and the Stryker from the C-17. Then he saw two others MRAPs, strapped to pallets, winched into the belly of the plane. They both had been in explosions, and when he looked at how twisted and burned they were, Deeks wondered if anyone in them could have survived. Thinking back to the car bombs that took Jess' life and almost took his, he doubted it. The detective wondered to himself which was the more dangerous war zone, the deserts of Afghanistan or the streets of Los Angeles. While he was still contemplating the virtues of each of them, their transport arrived, just touching down and the side door opening.

Another sergeant dropped out of the chopper and yelled at them, "Get on board, ladies. This is just a pickup, not a stopover. Now move it!"

The three civilians hurried over to the helicopter, threw their equipment inside and climbed aboard. The door hadn't even closed when helicopter rose in the air in a partial spiral, and headed back the way it came.

 **Camp Chapman**

Travel weary, and trying to keep Max Gentry locked tight in the recesses of his mind, Deeks was surprised when they were told they were landing. Again it was a touch and drop, the helicopter pilot anxious to spend as little time there as possible.

As they grabbed their equipment and started walking to enter the main part of the camp, an Afghani National Army officer stood , slightly in the shadows. He looked at his phone, then at the three men. As they came near the officer, the man said to them in a low voice, "I love the sunset in winter from the Santa Monica pier."

Callen stopped, and looked at him, before he delivered the counterpart of the challenge, "My father used to take me on Christmas evening to see it."

"Agent Callen?" the officer asked in further confirmation.

The agent in charge answered him with a nod, as he asked, "And you are?"

Callen stared at him as he answered, "I'm Sergeant Makar, Special Forces, ANA." He covertly looked around before he continued, "You speak to no one on the base. Especially the CIA or military intelligence. No one, Understand?"

Sam looked at him as he started to shake his head. And just who gave you those orders about us," he asked.

Sergeant Makar spoke a name that none of them expected to hear, "Owen Granger."

Totally shocked with his answer, Callen demanded, 'Where is he?"

"Not right now. You have to change into less conspicuous clothes. Quickly, come with me," Makar demanded.

Callen grabbed the sergeant's arm as he contended, "Someone was supposed to brief us. Now we are just supposed to go with you without getting a sit rep from military intelligence. That is absolutely insane.

"No," said Makar with a mocking smile on his face. "That is Afghanistan."

None of the three Americans were at all happy with the situation, but they started to follow the sergeant. He didn't head onto the base, but toward a beat up looking car at the side of the gate. He opened the driver's door and then turned back toward them. "Hurry," he told them. "You can change in the car."

 **No Man's Land**

After the time that they spent in the car, Deeks knew that he would never tease Eric about wearing his board shorts to work because of his 'sensitive' thighs. The clothes Makar had provided for them were bulky, heavy wool garments that suffocated the wearer, instead of the ones that he was used to that breathed with you. He could not understand how the natives could stand wearing these garments day after day. The detective just wondered how long it would take, before he was no longer plagued by the memory of these clothes and the incessant itching that they brought on.

Just getting into them was an exercise in absurdity. Sam sat in the front seat of the nondescript car, because that had the largest amount of room for him. In spite of that, the senior agent almost had to stick his feet out the window to change. Deeks wondered if Sam had learned those shimmy-shake moves on the dance floor with Michelle, to get everything adjusted to where he wanted them.

The circus in the back seat was no less comical. Both Callen and Deeks seemed to be working at cross purposes. Callen and Deeks hit each other so often ao the hands, arms, head, face and chest, that the detective almost imagined that he was back in his Jason Wyler alias. The only difference was that the backseat of the car was a whole lot smaller than the MMA cage.

Finally, Callen grabbed the younger man's arm and told him, "We're going to have to cooperate if we want to get this done. You do the same thing that I do, so we don't beat each other up." Deeks nodded his head in agreement.

Sam turned around and looked in back when he started hearing strange commands from Callen, "Over the head, now, left arm." Both Callen's and Deeks' left arms extended as each pulled up the left sleeve of their new wardrobe. He just shook his head and chuckled, before he said, "You guys do realize that you are going to have to put in some serious practice time, before you try to take that act out on the road?" In return, both Deeks and Callen just glared at him.

The longer they drove, the more concerned Deeks saw Callen was getting. Every mile took them further from Camp Chapman, not that would help them, since they had never reported in and no one in the camp even knew that they were here. Looking out the window, Deeks could see nothing in every direction. None of the high hills had cell towers, so that meant that they couldn't call for backup on their cell phones. They were literally on their own.

Several times Callen tried to get Sergeant Makar to open up and talk to him, but the ANA officer spoke as little as possible.

"Sergeant, now that no one's around, can you brief us on what we are going to face here?"

"I'm not authorized to do that, even if I would know."

"Do you know where we are going?"

Makar just nodded.

"Will there be someone there who will brief us?"

Makar shrugged his shoulders, his eyes never leaving the road.

Deeks knew his leader was not satisfied with the answers he was given. He pulled out his weapon from his partug, the local version of what passed for his pants. Deeks followed his example, thankful that his vest-like garment, the perahan, was loose enough that his Smith & Wesson 910 could be hidden underneath it.

 **An Afghani Village**

Several huts and small houses appeared on the horizon, and Makar appeared headed for them. All of the Americans figured that if they were attacked, that would be the place for it. The Taliban fighters could remain in their protected positions throughout the attack, while they would be in the center of the crossfire, out in the open. Callen motioned to Deeks that he should ride with his hand on the door handle, ready to bail out at a moment's notice. He also used his boot to kick the bottom of Sam's seat. Sam recognized the boot in his butt as a signal, leisurely turned his head to face the two in the back and made small talk about the trip. He got the silent message from Deeks and his hand went to the door handle too.

They entered the small village and drove down one of the streets before Makar pulled off to the side and stopped the car. As he got ready to leave, Callen grabbed him by the shoulder to stop him. "What do we do now?" he asked the ANA sergeant.

Makar looked back at Callen as he told him, "You wait." With that, he shrugged Callen's grasp from his shoulder, got out and started to walk away.

Sam's eyes were focused on the four men that had appeared and were now approaching them. "Ah, guys..." he warned.

"Shit, get ready, this might be a setup," Callen ordered. They all had their hands on their weapons and you could hear the safeties clicking off.

One of the advancing men broke off from the group. He had been masking his face, but dropped the covering as he came next to the car.

Callen looks at him in surprise. "Granger?" he exclaimed, as the older man opened the door and sat in the driver's seat.

Sam looked at him and shook his head as he declared, "The last we heard you were MIA somewhere in the Afghan desert."

The assistant director went into executive mode. "Who, besides Sergeant Makar, knows that you're here?" he demanded.

"No one," Callen answered. "We didn't speak to anyone, at the airport, or at the camp. Why has no one briefed us yet?"

I spotted a courier in the mountains off to the east, and tracked him to that house across the street. My resources say the messenger is part of the group that is holding Agent Blye hostage.

"Do you know who lives there?" Sam wondered.

"I have no idea," Granger answered.

"You still haven't answered my question. Why weren't we briefed yet?"

The older man sighed before he asked another question, "Do you remember Agent Sabatino; he worked for the CIA?"

Callen nodded, clearly becoming more and more agitated with answering all of Granger's questions.

Granger continued, "The two of us were part of a task force set up to take out a terrorist known as The White Ghost.

"We saw the intelligence reports. He's someone from the West, possibly American," Sam responded. "who is now passing on information to the Taliban."

"That's the story the Company is still trying to feed us. Much of what they said did not make sense, and when others tried to verify it, it appeared to be trumped up. I believe that there is some other reason why the CIA wants him dead," Granger acknowledged.

Callen looked at him and asked, "What about Sabatino? Does he still want him dead?" as he tried to remember his last encounter with the CIA.

Granger shook his head. and answered, "I have no clue, and we can't ask him."

"Why not?" asked Sam.

"He went off the grid three days ago."

Deeks, clearly bothered with all this explanation, tried to change the subject. "So what does this all have to do with Kensi," he demanded of the older man.

Granger turned toward him and answered. "The CIA wanted a sniper. Hetty chose Blye to be the shooter. Blye went out, secured the target, took the shot. She missed.

"What? Kensi?" Deeks exclaimed. "No way she missed."

"Do you think she missed on purpose?"

"I have no clue. I know I'm being played here, but I have no idea how or why. Until I determine the answers to that, this is an unsanctioned black op, blacker than your darkest night. There is no help coming for us. We are completely on our own."

The door of the house they were watching opened, and a man made his way to the truck parked nearby

"Is that the man you were following?" Callen asked Granger.

"That's the courier. Get into the other car; we can't afford to lose him. We will tail him all the way to where the rest of them are holed up." Granger got out of their car and hurried back to his own.

Sam turned to the detective. "Stay here, Deeks, and find out who lives in that house, he directed.

Deeks turned to look at him, a completely shocked expression on his face. "What! No way. That's my partner out there. I'm going with you."

Sam looked intently at him and divulged, "Not my doing. It's a direct order."

"Whose order? Granger's?"

Sam shook his head negatively.

"Then who, Hetty?"

Sam just stood there, not giving him an answer.

"I didn't think she would stoop that low." Deeks spit out, as he got out of the car. "I need someone to translate for me," he grumbled, loud enough for all to hear.

Granger signaled to Makar, who walked over to his car. The older man rolled down his window and said to him, "Stay with him and find out who lives in that house."

"Yes, sir." he responded and walked over to join Deeks.

The courier started his truck and began to drive off.

"He's on the move," Callen declared, as he and Sam jumped into the car with Granger.

"Don't worry, we got him," Granger answered. "We'll give him a head start before we follow him." The assistant director started up his car and slowly began to shadow their target.

 **. . . . .**

Deeks and Makar got ready to enter the indicated house. The detective could hear very little noise inside, as he slowly pushed the door open. He cringed as the hinges gave off a low rasping sound, and the two of them went on higher alert. Deeks took a quick view inside and partially relaxed. The only occupant of the one room home appeared to be an older man who was cooking.

The two men still refused to take any chances, and entered the small home with their weapons trained on the old man.

Makar shouted at him in Arabic. "Stay where you are."

The man turned around and demanded, "Who are you? Why are you here?" as he took a step toward them.

Deeks turned to Makar. "Tell him to stop. I don't want to have to shoot him," he shouted, as the old man took another step towards them.

Makar kept his weapon trained on the old man, as he said to the detective, "I already told him to stop." He spoke to the old man again, "If you don't stop, we will have to shoot you."

Deeks turned on his flashlight and trained it on the old man. Dressed in traditional native garb, the man's hands were empty. The beam of light was then directed at the man's face and revealed two milky orbs.

"Don't shoot him," Deeks called out. "The old man's blind!"

 **=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)**


End file.
